War and Peace, The Long Road Home
by T'Pring
Summary: When Sheppard and Weir are separated from their team on a hostile planet, a wounded Sheppard is forced to guide her to the stargate alone through deep woods and a gauntlet of enemy soldiers. Shep Whump and JohnEliz friendship.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This story idea came from a comment writer Martin Gero made on the DVD commentary. Something about how all the characters enjoyed picking up big guns and playing Army. All except Weir, who would never shoot-em-up because it would be so out of character. So of course, my first thought was, "How can I put Elizabeth in a situation where she would consider shooting a gun?" Up to the very end I still wasn't sure if she actually would or not, so read up and see what happened! Sheppard gets to go along for the ride, and gets whumped pretty good to provide "motivation."  
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_ Reviews are appreciated as you go!_

_**July 1, 2006** - Just completed and uploaded minor revisions throughout the story, mostly small picky editorial stuff but there are some major rewrites of chapter 10 and the epilogue. Hubby also pointed out a couple of minor technical holes which are hopefully "plugged" in this revision. Probably not worth re-reading if you've already done so! Otherwise, enjoy!_

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* * *

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Dr. Elizabeth Weir squirmed a bit with excitement as the puddle jumper cleared the Stargate and began a smooth rapid climb into crystal blue morning sky. She really had to get off Atlantis more, she thought. It just wasn't dignified for the leader of the Atlantis Expedition to feel quite so…giddy about a mere archeological survey of an unpopulated ruin.

She leaned forward to watch the ground fall away below her and her stomach did a flop despite the eerie lack of any sensation of ascent. She grinned, unable to contain her pleasure and looked over at the man in the pilot's seat next to her. John Sheppard sat relaxed at the controls, carefully surveying the view through the windshield and the complex array of instruments in front of him. She felt him radiating a deep sense of contentment as he brought the jumper around into a tight arc to circle the gate and then leveled it out to follow a crumbling but impressive ancient roadway. That man sure does love to fly, she thought to herself, turning back to the landscape zipping by below and still smiling. She was sure she had caught the faint shadow of a similar joyful expression on John's face.

Now and then a sparkling stream or large river would catch the fresh sunlight and reflect brightly into her eyes. She caught glimpses of chalky rock and dark earth beneath the leafy green canopy of the forest they were flying over as they followed the road's meandering path, and she knew the jumper's scanners were recording every inch for the benefit of the survey team that would study both the road and the geography it traveled through in great detail.

The winding relic itself was unusual to the Pegasus Galaxy. Made of what appeared to have once been solid or poured rock, it indicated a different civilization than the Ancients that had founded Atlantis. The architecture of the columns and monuments surrounding the gate itself was also unique to their experience and Elizabeth had eagerly studied the reports and photos that had come in from the first survey teams. When Sheppard's team came back with the discovery of a towering Ziggurat at the end of the road she had decided right then to check it out for herself.

She hadn't, however, expected the resistance she had faced the second she announced her intentions. Sheppard had thrown up every barrier he could think of to get her to stay home, or at least wait until the science team had spent a day or two at the site. She even suspected he might have tried to contact Col. Caldwell to back him up in his campaign. But luckily the Dedalus was well beyond reach heading towards Earth, the final scout reports had all come back clear, and she was defiantly sitting in the jumper thoroughly looking forward to a hot, hard day's work of exploring and translating.

"As I was saying…" Rodney McKay's rapid-fire monologue had paused at the jumper's rather grand arrival to the quite beautiful planet. "It's a miracle we actually found this place at all. Well, perhaps not so much a miracle as yet another one of my feats of brilliant deduction too commonplace to be considered truly surprising any more…"

Privately rolling her eyes before turning her chair, Elizabeth pulled herself away from the landscape and faced the interior of the jumper. It was crowded in the confined space. Ronan Dex and Teyla Emmagan were seated just behind Sheppard and herself in the forward cockpit, also looking amused, but long used to their teammate's inane egotism. Through the open door into the rear compartment, Elizabeth could see Rodney huddled over his tablet computer as he talked and the 3 members of the science team next to him nodding politely. Across the aisle and looking large and intimidating were Sheppard's men… two marines obviously chosen for their size and (Elizabeth hated herself for thinking this) their thug-like appearance. Clearly Sheppard was still unhappy with her presence on the survey and had decided to exercise his protest in the only way left to him: by assigning his own team and extra security to the mission. Considering how many times she had heard him grumble about babysitting science teams on boring scientific surveys, his and his teams' presence was quite an indicator. Thinking that she appreciated his concern, in an annoying big-brotherly sort of way, she also thought he was being a bit paranoid. Surely it wasn't healthy to assume monsters jumped out of every ruin and crevasse one encountered in the Pegasus galaxy.

"What made you go looking for this planet's gate address if it wasn't in the Ancient Database?" asked Dr. Corrigan, the anthropologist who had been with Atlantis since the beginning.

"Well it isn't in the database of Gate addresses, but it is in the histories." McKay went on, warming to his topic. "Carson was watching the historical tapes again… he seems to have a weird fascination with that hologram girl…and we noticed that there was a cluster of planets the Ancients didn't originally claim."

"What do you mean by 'didn't claim' Dr. McKay?" asked Teyla, speaking up with interest.

"They weren't Blue." Stated Sheppard succinctly, his gaze still intent upon their route.

"Blue?"

"What he _means_…" Rodney seemed annoyed by the Colonel's interruption, an effect that Elizabeth was sure John had intended. "is that when the holographic histories represent the Pegasus Galaxy before the Wraith overwhelmed it, there was a group of star systems that, well, weren't Blue, symbolizing the Ancient Territories." McKay glared at Sheppard before continuing. "They weren't Red symbolizing the Wraith either, and once we spent more time studying the tapes, we also realized this cluster didn't seem to have been conquered after the Ancients left Pegasus because they still weren't red or blue."

"I see. What color _were_ these planets?" Teyla's expression was full of mischief and Elizabeth shared a grin with the young and beautiful woman who was more sophisticated than many, especially the arrogant Rodney McKay gave her credit for.

"That's beside the point! Ok, they were Yellow. " For all his brilliance, Elizabeth thought, Rodney was pretty clueless when he was being teased. "What's r_eally_ interesting here people, is that we FOUND this planet by calculating its location manually, then refined by trial and error to finalize the address."

"You forgot the part about the black hole orbiting the sun next door, making gate travel intermittent and shutting us off from Atlantis for 6 hours at a time." This time Sheppard's bluntness sent a ripple of tension through the ship. The scientists and the security detail squirmed a bit at the uncomfortable thought of being stranded. Teyla and Ronan exchanged a meaningful glance, sharing a moment of heightened determination to be wary.

"I was getting to that," said McKay, seeming a bit deflated. "Because of where this planet is in the gate network, the black hole the Colonel mentioned functions kind of like a revolving door, protecting this planet most of the time from gate travel in and out. It's sheer luck we happened to be testing our final addresses during an open window, and it was Dr. Pesch our astronomer who discovered why we can only reach this address intermittently. We've calculated the next 3 or 4 windows of opportunity to gate in and out, so even though it is intermittent, it's also predictable."

"Perhaps the people who put a gate here were reclusive?" Teyla suggested astutely, and Elizabeth was surprised to hear a very soft pair of grunts come from both Ronan and Sheppard making her wonder what about the comment had concerned the wary men.

"Maybe…" Rodney answered in the tone that meant all too clearly "_Not_". "More likely, just extremely unlucky. Anyway, each window is open for 6 hours roughly so we shouldn't have any trouble getting home on schedule."

"It's the unscheduled trips I worry about." Ronan muttered. "Are all gate addresses blocked by this black hole or is only Atlantis disabled?"

"Pretty much we're stuck here except during the open windows." Rodney seemed thoughtful, as if finally realizing the implications of their extended visit. The previous survey teams had purposefully come in and out within a single window, avoiding being cut off for any length of time. This expedition, they planned to stay a full day to catalog any writings and document with photos the entire area surrounding the Ziggurat. They would be cut off for 6 hours, then return to Atlantis during the next window.

The sobering statement brought silence to the jumper and they continued the rest of the trip with only the rustle of idle movement and McKay's muttering to listen to. Finally, Elizabeth noticed the slightest of changes in the light dancing through the jumper's window, and she turned her attention back to the landscape to see them approaching a gentle but massive hill. The road cut through the natural barrier, rather than climbing over the hill to create a deep and shadowy artificial canyon. They were slowing down as well and she caught her breath in an involuntary gasp as they cleared the crest.

A massive plain that could have once been a lakebed it was so wide and level stretched out before them, velvety with short brightly green grasses. But the interesting geology was far upstaged by the towering structure jutting out of its center. Its beauty lay in its dramatic contrast to the natural surroundings. The rock that formed the evenly tiered steps up to a dramatic domed crown seemed to be the same material as the road they had been following and which continued to march across the plain directly to the Ziggurat. Unlike the broken and crumbling road, however, the building was perfectly smooth, showing no signs of the decay of wind, water and weather. A moan of anticipation reached her ears from the back and she had to grin at Dr. Corrigan's eagerness. She felt a similar intellectual pull to the monument and at that instant felt like she would have ignored even a direct order from her government or sneaked through the gate all by herself just to see it.

"All right people," Sheppard's commanding voice brought the expedition to attention, even as most everyone was beginning to shift and jostle with their packs and gear. "You've all been briefed. We survey what we can, and go home the next open window in 8 hours, no exceptions. It'll be getting dark by then anyway. It takes 30 minutes to get back to the gate by jumper so our point of no return this window is less than 60 minutes. Science team, don't wander off alone. You can divide up how you want among yourselves, but stay with a security member at all times. Security, we'll rotate teams of two when possible, one team keep the jumper in sight at all times. Have fun!"

As he finished, Elizabeth felt a small jolt and realized they had just landed in the waving grasses near where the road ended and became a wide set of shallow steps down to the foot of monument, still many yards away. That giddy feeling was creeping over her again, and the grin reappeared. Just before marching out the rear hatch behind the others, she glanced back to find John Sheppard studying her. Afraid for a moment he would again voice his disapproval, or worse try to restrict her exploration on the planet, she returned the look firmly, daring him to speak. Instead, with a resigned sigh and a gallant sweep of his arms, he gestured her out into the sunlight.

* * *

It had been the best day of Elizabeth's life in the Pegasus Galaxy. It was hot, dusty, she had probably walked 10 miles in her wanderings around and around the stone building and she had never had so much fun. Perhaps she had missed her calling as archeologist or anthropologist she mused, happily tired. The ruins remained frustratingly enigmatic with only the architecture itself providing any clues as to who had built it. Without a reference to compare against, even this was of little use. Still, she had helped photograph the site and some surrounding odd stone markers. Rodney had spent most of the day muttering over the single panel that contained any writing at all, and that in a language no one there recognized. Dr. Corrigan in a fit of zeal had climbed the step-like walls to the top tier hoping to find an opening somewhere, only to return with a happy expression of sheepish disappointment. 

Finally wrapping the expedition up, Sheppard had just given a 30 minute warning to regroup at the jumper for departure and was pacing just behind Elizabeth as she strolled towards one last stone marker very nearly at the edge of the plain. He in fact had been in the same position all day, something of a gun-toting second shadow in dark glasses. Teyla, Ronan and the two marines had all taken turns with each of the science members, sometimes joining her, sometimes merely standing at attention some distance away from the group to survey the surrounding landscape on Sheppard's orders. But even while he interacted with his team via the radio and anytime they happened to be nearby, Sheppard himself never strayed more than a stone's throw away. At the moment, they were both a long hike from the others, having followed a trail of markers noticed late in the day off towards the forested hillside. In the distance behind them, they could just make out a few of their team moving around the gray blob of the jumper.

"Was it worth it?" John asked lightly as they walked, watching her stretch and rub her neck tiredly.

Elizabeth considered him briefly, smiling, before she answered. "Yes. I think this is the most fun I've had in weeks. This place is so beautiful, and the ruins are simply incredible. Thank you." And lest he misinterpret the latter, she added pointedly, "Thank you for asking." He nodded also smiling, his lengthening shadow merging with hers on the warm groundcover. It was late afternoon on the planet, and would soon be evening.

As they walked the last few yards, John clicked his radio and ducked his chin in the unconscious gesture borne of the habit of talking into one's vest. "Ronan. Dr. Weir and I are down the road, checking out one last marker. It'll take us 15 minutes to walk back to you, so get the rest of them ready to go in 20."

"Understood." Came Ronan's answering growl. "McKay and Jones are packing up gear now. What's your score?"

Elizabeth threw John a puzzled look, but he seemed pleased, as if he had been anticipating just such a question. "I'm at an even dozen!" At Ronan's snort, Sheppard's face fell a bit.

"Passed that by mid-day. Mine is 25."

Suddenly Teyla's voice chimed in, "Then I have you both, 26." Sheppard chuckled and was about to respond when the tentative voice of one of the security detail crackled through.

"Um, sir?"

"Go ahead Lieutenant."

"Walker and me got 32…sir." Sheppard laughed out loud, a short exuberant "Ha!"

"Let me guess, you've been shadowing Dr. Corrigan." Sheppard was still grinning, and Elizabeth could hear Teyla's delighted laughter through the radio as the young soldier replied sheepishly, "Yes, sir."

"Understood, Sheppard out."

When several steps later, it became clear that the Colonel was not going to volunteer an explanation, Elizabeth prompted him with "Well?"

"Me and Ronan had a bet," was all he answered, thoroughly enjoying holding the moment over her.

"And this bet was about?"

"Who would hear the words 'interesting', 'fascinating', 'amazing' or '_incredible_' the most today. Walker and Jones won."

Moments later, still chuckling and grinning, they were at the 14 foot-tall 4-sided obelisk that was the object of Elizabeth's interest. "Wow" she breathed, immediately excited by the scribbles of writing on the smooth surface. "We've got something here!" John too stepped closer as she touched the marks, and brushed dust off the surface.

"There's more on this side," he commented managing at least mild interest. She darted around to his side, almost bumping into him in her enthusiasm.

"This is fascinating, John!" She blurted out the words before thinking and then felt herself blush as she caught his smug expression.

"Lucky 13" he muttered softly, shaking his head as if exasperated yet his eyes were twinkling.

"This panel is in a different language, I'm sure of it." Elizabeth was talking breathlessly, and she continued on around quickly to view the other 2 sides. "Each panel seems to be a unique translation, probably meaning the message is the same, repeated in 4 languages so as many people as possible could read it! Ancient! This one is in Ancient!" She was almost shouting the last and without waiting for a response from John, she clicked her own radio to call into it, "Rodney, we've found a panel written in Ancient on the last marker, along with 3 other languages I don't recognize. I'm working on reading it, but if the message is the same in all 4 languages….!"

It was Dr. Corrigan's voice that cut in, sounding equally excited, "We can use the Ancient text to decode the other symbols."

"Exactly!"

"We're headed your way, Elizabeth!" Rodney added.

"Hold up!" Sheppard interrupted the surge of enthusiasm. "Stay put everyone. We still leave in 15 minutes." At the chorus of protests he held up his hand and continued, "Dr. Weir will take lots of pretty pictures for you to look at back on Atlantis. It'll be dark in a couple of hours anyway. Ronan, Teyla, Jones make sure they keep packing."

"Oh FINE! Sick the dogs on us will ya… HEY!" Rodney's petulant voice was abruptly cut off as his radio was apparently yanked out of his hands.

Elizabeth had already tuned out the others as she was furiously concentrating on the Ancient text. Stepping back from the marker to better see what was written higher up on the panel, she didn't notice the smooth circular stone, albeit covered in thatch and debris, she ended up standing on. Under her breath she began reciting, "Peace be with you who come in peace. Friends are welcome to the Sanctuary of Serenity. Enemies of peace will be driven before the wave of their own violence…" So intent upon her translation, she was almost mesmerized by the words as they came to life before her, she could almost hear them in her head.

The next instant she found herself sprawled on the ground looking back up at John Sheppard in full battle stance, looking down the scope of his P-90 held high on his shoulder. Confused, she stupidly looked around for what he was aiming at only to see the stone marker itself in his line of sight. But it was as she turned her head that the corner of her eye caught the flicker of blue surrounding John as he restlessly searched for something to disable. Not knowing what to do she simply cried out "John! Something's…scanning you!" And just as suddenly, the flicker was gone. After a moment, she added, "…It's, it's gone now."

Sheppard lowered his weapon a mere fraction, looking further around them. "I know. It had you first…Let's get the hell out of here."

Nodding, Elizabeth stood up and immediately headed away from the Obelisk glancing back over her shoulder at it feeling completely shaken. Only moments before it had seemed exciting and interesting and now it only felt ominous and menacing. John was in the lead now, setting a very fast pace back to the jumper, weapon still at the ready as he fumbled for his radio. "Teyla, Ronan, we're getting out of here now. If you're not on the jumper yet then get there and leave anything behind that's not packed. Jones, you're co-pilot. Warm it up and be ready to come get us if we need it."

A chorus of "Yes sir!" rang through the radio and only Rodney dared ask the obvious question, "What happened?"

"That damned rock scanned us, and I'm not taking any chances."

Half expecting Rodney to either protest or ask more about the fascinating scan, Elizabeth was completely unprepared for his actual words as they screamed through the radio "Sheppard! Incoming!"

Seconds later, all hell broke loose. 


	2. Chapter 2

Rodney's shout gave John Sheppard just enough warning to jerk his glance skyward and spot the bright spark arcing towards them, trailing a thin line of white smoke. In the split second he had for thought, he concluded that it would not be a direct hit, but close…and that it would fall short. With his next half-second he planted his heel and turned into Elizabeth as she plowed up to him. Using their momentum in reverse, he threw them both back from the direction they had been running, and drove them to the ground, covering her as they fell.

The explosion of sound hurt worse than the dirt and tufts of grass that pelted his back and legs, but he was grateful that he felt no heat licking his boots. _That_ would have been too close. Rolling quickly back up to his knees, he shouldered his weapon again to look at the smoking crater between him and the Ziggurat. Between him and his team.

* * *

"Where the hell did that come from?" Shouted McKay, terrified by the surprise attack, but nonetheless holding his ground, pistol drawn by the rear hatch of the jumper. The cloud of smoke and dust from the distant explosive impact spread wide over the flat grassland, creating a hazy veil between them and the even further hillside. 

"Sheppard do you read?" Teyla's concern was for her CO and Rodney was grateful for her calm demeanor, even as she readied her own weapons and continued to hustle the remaining team into the jumper. Receiving no reply, Teyla shot a look at Ronan before she turned into the jumper herself for a head count. Ronan immediately reached for his own radio and repeated "Sheppard, do you read. Are you injured? Dr. Weir, do you read…?"

Teyla emerged again to ask briskly "Where are Dr. Corrigan and Walker?"

Shaking himself from the distracting buzz of "We're all going to die" in his head, Rodney finally replied. "They were together just around the east corner of the building, they went back for a last check to make sure we hadn't missed anything. That was before Sheppard called in. I'm sure they are heading back. I know I heard Walker 'Yes sir' and all that…" Teyla nodded then turned to Ronan who could only shrug and continue his chant over the radio.

Facing Rodney again, she stated "We will wait for Walker and Corrigan, then take the jumper to meet Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir."

"What if they're injured?" Rodney couldn't help himself from imagining the worst.

Teyla's expression reflected a moment of her own worry, then reaching out to gently touch him on the arm she replied, "Then we will be able to quickly give them medical aid in the jumper." Rodney nodded, reassured.

The sound of P-90 gunfire whirled them around to face the East corner of the temple. Their weapons ready, Teyla and Ronan began moving in that direction and Rodney raised his own weapon again, designating himself rear-hatch guard. The running, staggering figures of Walker and Corrigan soon barreled into view, the marine twisting to fire randomly at intervals behind him. Corrigan was clutching his shoulder and seemed to stumble into Ronan's arms once they met, the larger man helping him continue the mad dash to the jumper. Rodney watched warily as the group neared, and just as he was regaining a little optimism, a second frightening whistle swooshed by overhead.

Certain that Teyla and the rest would reach the jumper safely, Rodney zipped into the cockpit, taking no time to acknowledge the remaining two scientists huddled fearfully on the benches. Through the forward window, he and Jones watched another plume of smoke and debris launch into the air as the drone, or missile or whatever it was struck ground. Fighting a sinking feeling, he shouted over his shoulder, "Come on, come on! We need to get going!" The clatter of 4 pairs of feet answered his call, and moments later the comforting grind of the rear hatch sealed them off from the chaos outside.

Barely waiting for the door to clang shut, Rodney threw himself into the co-pilot's seat and snapped his fingers at Jones quipping "Go, go, go. Giddyup, Mush, or whatever you people say."

"Sir, everything just went dead!"

* * *

"Ronan. Teyla, come in. McKay do you read?" Frustrated, Sheppard dropped his hand from the radio and shifted his crouched stance restlessly, his body reflecting the turmoil of his thoughts. He couldn't remember ever feeling quite so exposed or unsure of which way to turn. Elizabeth knelt quietly close by, looking terrified, but she seemed to be waiting for his lead. He was grateful for that. The last thing he needed right now was to have a "who's in charge" conversation. What he DID need was to be able to talk to his team he thought savagely, to be sure they were on the way. Surprisingly, the thought was immediately calming. Of course they were on their way. Teyla would get everyone onto the jumper as he had ordered, and the second they realized they had lost radio contact, Rodney would send Jones across the plain to look for them. That's what he would do, and they were his team. 

Somewhat reassured, he tried to muster a word of encouragement for Elizabeth's sake. All he could come up with was, "They'll be here soon," but he meant it, and she nodded briefly with understanding and gratitude. They knelt like that for several more minutes, the tension mounting despite their faith in their colleagues.

The sound of distant gunfire drifting from the direction of the Ziggurat propelled Sheppard to his feet to plant himself firmly between it and Elizabeth, his unease returning triple-fold. He could sense her slowly standing as well, and trying the radio once again he practically snarled into the receiver, "Ronan, dammit, what's going on!" With only silence as answer, he suddenly made a decision. Whipping around, he grabbed Elizabeth's arm and shoved her back in the direction of the stone marker and the forested slopes beyond.

Pushing her along ahead of him, so as to continue to keep himself between her and the gunfire, he silently hoped he wasn't making a huge mistake, but doing _something_ sure felt better than sitting in the middle of a bull's-eye. She obediently jogged along as directed but her confusion was apparent and she called out at yet another nudge in the back "John….where…?"

"We've got to find cover. Whatever's going on back there is holding our people up. Worst case we get to the tree line and wait there for them to meet us. Best case they meet us on the way." He could see her look apprehensively at the hills in the distance. It looked like a hell of a run, but it was the only choice they had. He couldn't take Elizabeth into a firefight he had no information about and if there were any more missiles, they were sitting ducks in the open grassy plains.

As if in answer, a faint whine met them and with even less notice than before he simply hit the ground, leaning into Elizabeth who had already started to drop as well. This time the whoosh of sound brought their hands to their ears, and a blast of heat washed over them. The missile had gouged a hole just to the west, missing by only yards.

Dragging each other to their feet, they exchanged muttered "I'm okay"s and eventually locked eyes. Elizabeth simply said, "Run?"

"Like you mean it," was John's reply.

* * *

A faint note of panic crept into the young airman's voice who had otherwise remained calm through the attack despite his worry over his teammates and CO. "Everything was fine, then it just…shut down!" 

"No, no, no, no, no! Not now!" moaned McKay, simultaneously launching back out of his chair to practically shove Jones out of the pilot's seat. Also getting no response from the controls, he moved next to the rear compartment to slam open the control panel from the overhead bulkhead. Several of the usually glowing crystals were ominously dark. Cursing and spluttering the impossibility of such a malfunction, he was reaching for his tablet computer when the distant echoes of yet another explosion caused everyone inside to flinch. Moving even faster, if that was possible, Rodney whipped out his cables to begin interfacing them.

As he worked, he became aware of the ongoing bustle around him, and spared a glance around to see Teyla and Walker attending to a pale and trembling Dr. Corrigan. Walker had the anthropologist's jacket open and was pressing a field bandage into his shoulder. Teyla was rummaging through the First Aid kit to pull out gauze and tape and topical anti-bacterial medicines.

"…until we heard Sheppard's order to retreat so we turned around and were heading back when they just came out of nowhere. The first we knew they were there was when I looked back for a 6-check. Looked like a small strike force, 6-8 guys in uniforms armed and aiming at us. I laid down cover fire and…. I think I hit one of them because they returned fire." Walker struggled to remain professional. "Dr. Corrigan was immediately wounded, and I continued cover fire until he could get back up and we continued to retreat… I'm sorry Jeff." The last was soft and full of self-rebuke. The one thing Sheppard drilled into everyone in his command was their duty to protect the civilian population. A directive unique to the Atlantis project, but one his people took to heart…or went home.

"Not your fault, Tim." Corrigan's voice was stressed, but strong. The two young men had developed a friendship over the course of the day, Corrigan's lively enthusiasm rubbing off on the energetic and light-hearted lieutenant. "I've been on enough offworld missions to know to how to duck and I didn't do it."

Teyla and Ronan looked at each other perplexed. "No one followed you around the building, and so far no one has come to the jumper?"

Walker just shook his head wearily. "They were there sir."

"Sirs!" Jones' shout from the front was thick with terror. A sudden scramble of feet and the clicking of weapons drew Rodney's attention to the cockpit where a gray robed figure stood casually by the co-pilot seat. A bristle of weapons was aimed at him, yet the stunning stranger was supremely calm.

"Who?….How?" Rodney looked the length of the ship as if to prove to himself that the door was not open and he had simply missed an old man waltzing down the aisle.

"What do you want?" Ronan got to the point, edging closer in his eagerness to demand answers.

"You are being notified, according to the code of the Sanctuary, that you are being detained pending completion of the trial." The man was old but vigorous, and his deep voice dripped with barely contained scorn. His robes were luxuriously ornate, and shimmered like Doupioni silk. He glanced haughtily at the weapons still in the steady hands of the crowd facing him.

"We'll see who's detaining who…" Ronan grinned with humorless disdain, but Rodney cut over him "Trial? What trial? Who's on trial?"

By way of answer, the man turned his head marginally to indicate the HUD which came to life of its own accord to display an astonishing image: Sheppard and Weir racing for their lives across the plain.

* * *

The third missile missed by a good distance, the panting pair didn't even break their stride as it struck. The tree line still seemed impossibly far to Elizabeth, as if she were in a dream where no matter how hard she pumped her legs, they would never get any closer. She could hear John's reassuring steps pounding behind her and she tried to focus on his guidance instead of the unreachable distance. A nudge to one side sent her veering in a new direction, and she realized he was zig-zagging them across the open space, presumably to present a more difficult target. He had only to grunt "Down!" and she was hitting the dirt, hands over her head and bracing herself against the roar of noise she knew would come. 

She felt him pause this time before throwing his weight directly over her. Surprised by the contact, she fought him a bit until the inevitable blast startled her out of struggling. The second the blast passed, he had rolled off and was unapologetically tugging at her elbow to get her moving again. As she staggered forward, she caught him cursing under his breath and rubbing at the back of his head. Seeing that she had noticed, he tried for a reassuring smile, managing only a pained grimace and said simply "That one kicked up a bit of rock."

Then they were running again. It seemed an eternity. Run. Dodge. Cover. Repeat.

Elizabeth was brought out of the stupor she had fallen into where all she could hear was the steady breathing of the man behind her, and the voice in her head that kept repeating "just keep running, just keep running," by the realization that she was having to dodge brush and brambles. They had reached the edge of the plain, and the ground sloped gently away from them seeming to get darker as the brush changed into scraggly trees and then into deep forest.

Sheppard pushed passed her, slowing their frantic pace and led upwards towards the darkest shadows he could find. The trees finally closed around them, and realizing that it had been several minutes since the last missile attack, she let her exhaustion overtake her and she sat down heavily at the foot of a nearby trunk, gasping for air. John stood nearby, softly calling into his radio over and over. Feeling a bit embarrassed as her heart rate finally slowed she slumped back against the cold rough bark to watch John in his vigil over the stubbornly silent radio. He was winded, breathing rapidly from exertion or anxiety, but he was certainly not panting like a Husky in summer, nor sprawled on the ground like a lump.

Catching his eye, she shook her head and apologized, "I guess I need to spend more time in the gym!"

"Wouldn't help." He stated, giving up on the radio and stepping over to offer a hand up. As she accepted it and heaved herself standing again, he added, "Distance running is an Art. You should see Ronan go…" Suddenly agitated he took a compulsive, almost involuntary step towards the plain, "Look I need to find a place where I can watch for the jumper. Radio contact is out, and our best chance is to spot them coming and flag them down." He seemed torn about something and he fidgeted as he watched her still breathing hard and leaning on her knees.

"I'll go with you, that way you won't waste time coming back for me." Straightening with a stretch, she waved him on with a weary flop of her hand but managed to smile reassuringly.

Nodding gratefully, he turned back downhill, picking the way slowly both to rest and keep an eye out for gaps in the forest. When they spotted a promising flat-topped boulder with a patch of darkening evening sky behind it, they eagerly scrambled up to lie across its still-warm top. They had a marvelous view of the plain and the shadowy Ziggurat in the distance. Once her mind fully grasped the impossibility of what she was seeing, Elizabeth gasped and feeling completely overwhelmed, reached instinctively for John's arm.

Frozen, they gazed at the plain below, swarming with an entire battalion or more of armed soldiers. One company was marching down the road, about to disappear into the tunnel-like canyon. Others were spreading out in their direction, bristling with weapons that glinted in the last rays of the setting sun.

* * *

Transfixed, the people on the jumper watched Sheppard and Weir dodge missiles and finally reach the shadowy tree line. As they moved under cover, the image vanished almost startling Rodney who had been completely engrossed in the drama. A restless silence filled the space until Teyla, grasping for any positive thought spoke "At least we know they are uninjured, for now." 

"What do you want?" Ronan repeated, snarling at the old man. His anger was clearly boiling, the images he had seen only fueling his frustration. Teyla took a calculated step towards the stranger, placing herself just enough in Ronan's way to send the message that he was not to attack, but she also looked stern as she added, "We mean no harm here. We are explorers and have merely been studying the ruins. We were planning to leave when we were attacked. If you allow us to do so, we will pick up our friends and go."

The stranger turned his gaze away from watching Rodney who had been trying to secretly scan the stranger with his palm LSD device. So much for being subtle, Rodney sighed, hoping the old guy wouldn't take offense. Focusing Teyla in his bland glare the stranger finally spoke, "Your leaders activated the Welcoming Stone which received your petition for access to the Sanctuary."

"Some welcome" snorted Ronan to be silenced by a glare from Teyla.

"The stone discovered disturbing conflicts within their minds. Violence only barely balanced with the Peace the Sanctuary requires. More observation is needed to complete the petition. A Trial is underway."

Rodney was rapidly growing as impatient as Ronan was angry. Pushing Walker aside to squeeze into the cockpit, he tried to sound reasonable and persuasive, "This has all been a big misunderstanding! Par for the course and to be expected in Pegasus," he added as an aside to himself. "But we made no petition, we don't want access to this 'Sanctuary'. We just want to go home before the next window of opportunity closes and we're stuck here all night!"

"Your leaders activated the Welcoming Stone which received your petition for access to the Sanctuary…"

"Yes, yes, but I'm certain they didn't mean to! And they certainly weren't speaking for me whatever they said."

A moment's pause, then, "They are the leaders of your people?"

"Well, not _all_ people, not even all Earth people, they are leaders of a few of us people on Atlantis who came from Earth on an expedition to learn about Pegasus people who have their own leaders… like Teyla here!" Teyla tilted her head at Rodney in warning, not really sure she wanted to be drawn into that category considering the circumstances…

"And you came to learn about the Temple? You came to seek the secrets of the Sanctuary?"

"Also yes, I suppose, but look, it's not that big a deal. Just let us go pick up our friends…um, our leaders, and we'll toddle on home unenlightened. Somehow we'll get over the disappointment…"

"A trial is underway."

Before Rodney could explode, Teyla quickly intervened feeling desperate for information and realizing that arguing was getting them nowhere, "What is this trial, and what does it entail?"

Another pause. "Images were drawn from the mind of those who sought petition, images of violence that concerned the stone greatly. Your leaders suffer the burden of these images. If they survive, then an evaluation of their conduct will be reviewed. If they do not survive, the petition will be denied."

"Sounds like a bloody Kangaroo Court," one of the scientists muttered from behind Rodney.

"What happens to us while our friends suffer this trial?" Teyla's tone was cold.

"You have been notified, according to the code of the Sanctuary, that you are being detained pending completion of the trial."

Rodney threw up his hands in exasperation.

"And what happens to us if our friends… do not survive?" Teyla's voice grew even colder.

"The time of petition is soon closing. At that time all pending petitions will be finalized, all denied petitions will be terminated."

With the chilling statement resting heavily in the tense air, the visitor silently vanished to everyone's surprise and consternation. Everyone except Rodney who waved sarcastically at the empty space and scoffed, "Yes, yes. Bye, bye Mr. Hologram Man."

Teyla looked startled and gaped at McKay. "Hologram? Like the histories on Atlantis?"

"Exactly. I'm guessing it was a recording or interactive computer. Not much personality programmed in. My laptop has a better sense of humor…" As he spoke he was poking at the hand held device and turning back into the rear of the jumper. "Pretty advanced technology, though, to be able to place an image inside a well lit ship."

"And the thing with disabling the jumper is pretty impressive too." Jeff Corrigan spoke not from fascination, but from the discomfort of his wound and the growing realization that he was not going to get to a warm cozy infirmary any time soon.

"Mmmm hmmm." McKay suddenly seemed a million miles away as he whirled to stare at Corrigan as if seeing him for the first time. With a lurch, he hit the rear latch and stood bouncing on his toes as he waited impatiently for the ramp to reach the ground. Teyla, Ronan and Walker all yelled in surprise and anger at the impulsive act, scrambling to get to defensible positions. Unconcerned, McKay simply walked out the back to aim his sensor at the Ziggurat, muttering and cursing.

"Dr. McKay!" Teyla followed him halfway down the ramp weapon raised high and scanning the grounds furiously. "If the enemy soldiers are nearby…"

Cutting her off, he yelled back over his shoulder, "I think they were holograms too. There are certainly enough power readings coming from that temple to be able to summon up a whole bunch of the humorless little buggers. Sheesh, I've been hanging around Carson too much…"

Understanding his words, but still very uncomfortable in the open, Teyla insisted, "Rodney, Corrigan was wounded. His injury is no illusion."

"Yeah, that's what just occurred to me." Finally wandering back into the jumper, still fiddling with the gadget and completely unaware of the exasperated expressions and sighs from his teammates, he voiced a worried thought. "If this technology can create holographic content capable of interacting with solid matter," he met the eyes of each of them, "it could be a real problem for Sheppard and Elizabeth."


	3. Chapter 3

Finally unable to watch any more, John and Elizabeth quietly slipped off their perch and moved back into the deepening forest. The pilot and soldier felt himself shutting down every thought and sense that wasn't purely devoted to survival. Training and instinct moved to the foreground. It was a mental mechanism that served him well in combat, and especially when flying where uncertainty was a luxury for your chain of command and hesitation got you killed.

But this time there was a problem. Elizabeth walked quietly next to him, still determined to follow his lead and put her trust in his protection, but she kept shooting him expectant looks. Asking without asking what they were going to do next. And that was the problem. He knew _exactly_ what he would do if Dr. Elizabeth Weir weren't standing next to him. He would wait 'til dark, sneak across that damnable plain, find out what the hell happened to his team and get them all out of there.

"We don't leave people behind" wasn't just a catch phrase. It was the guiding principle behind much military strategy and combat training. In hand-to-hand, you didn't learn to fight to win. You learned to fight to a draw, hoping that your buddies would get there first before the other guys' did. You tried to stay alive until help arrived, and every instinct in his body was screaming for him to go help his team.

But Elizabeth _was_ here, Leader of the Atlantis Expedition, and she was his responsibility. Anyone, _anyone_ else would have been better than her. Another science team member he could have left safely hidden away to go on reconnaissance. Teyla or Ronan he would have simply taken with him, and been thrilled for the backup. But Elizabeth, _Elizabeth…_

He had reasoned with her, he had argued with her, he had tried to stall and intimidate her, but she wanted to come. And in the bitter end, he wanted to let her come, it had meant so much to her. He hadn't been able to bring himself to tell her the real reason she should stay home: She was a liability. She was too important, and protecting her meant he had to abandon his team to do so.

John had taken Special Forces training as well, most chopper pilots had to as the chance of being shot down behind enemy lines was high. That game was played differently. You were taught to completely depend on yourself. You were taught to do what you had to do, no matter how brutal or…evil it seemed to complete the mission. But _in_ that case, no one _else_ was depending on you. You had only yourself and your mission. He felt trapped between two minds, two worldviews, neither one fitting the situation perfectly and leaving him frustrated.

He had to protect Elizabeth. _That_ was his mission, and that meant making it back to the Stargate. Once she was safe he would muster a battalion of his own and blow the crap out of that friggin' pyramid until it coughed up his team…if Major Lorne didn't do it first. Now there was a comforting thought. There was a chance that reinforcements from Atlantis could meet them on the route back to the gate and he could hand her off to return for his people.

Finally resolved to his course, he let training take over. Finding a clearing with a little more light, he dropped to one knee and began to take inventory of his weapons, ammunition, food & water. Watching him, Elizabeth also rummaged through her pockets as he asked her to take note of her supplies as well. She was wearing a standard issue Tac Vest and he was glad he had insisted upon that at least. It meant she had the basics: first aid, flashlight, thermal sheet, radio, 9mil ammo clip, power bars and a canteen that she had filled late in the day from the jumper's reserves.

His own inventory was a bit more…sophisticated and he patted the pocket with C4 and detonators almost lovingly.

Finished, he stood up and answered the question in Elizabeth's eyes. "We're going back to the gate." At her surprised, eyes-wide expression he continued on hurriedly before she could interrupt, "I want to get to the top of this mountain tonight, we'll find a safe place for you to rest while I scout out the road, see if it's passable." He moved as if to head out, reaching for his 9 mil to check the clip and load the chamber. Finally the argument he could sense bubbling up inside her burst out.

"John this makes no sense!"

"It's our only choice. The jumper is cut off, we don't have the ordinance to fight our way to it. We have to lay low, avoid the enemy and try to make it home."

Elizabeth shook her head, a quick negative shake, "No I mean that army…all those soldiers. How could there just suddenly be hundreds of people in that field?"

"I don't care!" She was momentarily taken aback but he quickly saw the surprise replaced with steely stubbornness. He spared the briefest of thoughts for amused respect at how strong-willed she was. It fueled his determination to get her through this. "Look," he added more gently, "I don't begin to understand it. Rodney could give us 10 explanations and write a thesis on each one before breakfast. All I know is that I have to get you out of here. Why they're here or how they got here is irrelevant. The fact that they were carrying really big guns and shooting missiles at us is."

"What about the others?" Her voice was hard.

The rough edges of that decision were still sharp and John suddenly found himself angry, "I'm not going to argue about it!" He snapped, and glaring he shoved the clip back into the 9 mil and thrust it at her, expecting her to take it out of course, his mind already on the path ahead and eager to get moving. Instead, to his great surprise she seemed genuinely flustered as she eyed the weapon warily. She finally stammered, "No, that's Ok….I'd just…no…"

This time it was John who was taken aback and stood foolishly holding out the gun she was almost literally backing away from. "Elizabeth, take it!"

"It's Ok, you keep it." Her voice was almost a whisper.

The sudden snap of a stick and muffled footsteps in the near distance drove his angry exasperation into fear-induced adrenaline. "Go!" he whispered fiercely, pointing out the route he wanted. Elizabeth immediately responded, and they moved as quietly as they could into the deepening evening gloom, the weapon holstered, forgotten, on John's hip.

* * *

The 8 Atlanteans sat in terrified silence watching the movement of the vast army suddenly materialized on the plain in front of them. When it just as suddenly vanished some 20 minutes later, they each exchanged worried looks before becoming again lost in their own thoughts. It was Teyla who finally broke the uncomfortable quiet. "Do you think that…display…was for Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir's benefit? Part of the Trial?" 

Rodney nodded, impressed. "Probably. Perhaps some kind of motivation not to try to come this way, or just to demonstrate the test. I'd bet Sheppard was watching when they appeared on the plain, they must be able to track his movements and project "characters" as needed without expending the power to keep them running perpetually." He paused a moment before muttering sardonically, "And we certainly know whose mind they pulled "images of Violence" from now, don't we…"

"You think the Colonel created those images?" Teyla wasn't sure if Rodney was being accusatory or informative.

"I hardly think Elizabeth on her worst day ever could imagine something like that marching into her living room."

The next hour they spent cramped in the stuffy jumper trying to ignore Rodney's sarcastic commentary and generally foul temper as he disassembled various control panels and power mechanisms, trying to override whatever force was preventing them from leaving. Once the tension became so thick that even the mild-mannered Walker was glaring daggers at the caustic physicist, Teyla decided the risk of the phantom holo-soldiers was worth some fresh air.

Receiving McKay's snide assurances that the holographic characters were unlikely to bother them unless they were somehow incited, she ordered a base camp set up just outside the jumper's rear doors. A crackling campfire and the familiar sight of several temporary, quickly assembled tents or "hooches" did much to improve the group's morale. Or perhaps it was simply that Rodney had left them alone, remaining in the jumper to bully the machinery in private. As per his predictions, the holograms also left them alone with the exception of when they wandered too far from the jumper. A squad of the mysteriously featureless soldiers would appear silently, blocking their path with cold blank looks down their all-too-real looking weapons, only to disappear just as silently the moment they retreated back to the jumper. Jones had gotten quite a scare as he wandered away looking for wood to burn.

Much later, near this planet's midnight, Rodney wearily stumbled out to the campsite and accepted a canteen and a standard issue Meals Ready to Eat or "MRE" gratefully from Teyla, sitting down heavily next to her on the camp blanket she had spread beneath them. Corrigan and Walker were asleep, snoring softly from their shared hooch. Walker it seemed had designated himself medic for the duration, and took the care of his new friend very seriously. The other science members were out of sight, presumably also asleep in their own tents. Jones and Ronan stood on guard nearby and McKay caught a gleam of Ronan's eyes flash in the dying firelight before they flicked away again to scan the empty quiet. It was cool, but not cold and if it hadn't been for the fear and worry clutching at their hearts, it would have been a beautiful summer night.

"I don't see anything wrong, mechanically with the jumper." McKay finally spoke quietly to Teyla, knowing she would wish to know. "As far as I can tell, whoever is running this show can suppress the power pathways, or maybe the control conduits to disable it without actually damaging anything, which is good I suppose. There are massive energy signatures coming from that structure. It's interfering with getting any readings on what specific energy weapons they might be using against the ship."

Teyla nodded, but remained quiet for the moment to allow him to say what he needed. She understood that the more he talked, the less he talked _about_ and had learned through the trials their team had endured to give him time.

"I think tomorrow I'll try to get to that Welcoming Stone thing, see if the writing Elizabeth saw could give us any usable information." They sat together for another long while still silent. Finally Rodney voiced the question she felt he most needed to ask, "What will Sheppard do? I mean, he and Elizabeth are out there wandering around with God knows what chasing them. Wondering why we aren't coming to help…" his eyes were shadowed with guilt.

"Sheppard is a very skilled warrior." Teyla answered confidently. She had been pondering the same question long before Rodney joined her. "He will most likely find shelter for the night as we have, and I guess that he will head for the Stargate in the morning."

"Really? He'd just leave us like that?"

Teyla smiled at the seemingly contradictory protest, "He takes his responsibility to Dr. Weir very seriously. While I'm sure there is nothing he would rather do than come for us, he will first try to get her to safety." Continuing more quietly, and with a hint of worry creeping into her tone, "I have never seen him so…nervous…on a survey mission before."

"Yeah, I got that too. Too bad he was right to be worried. What about all that about "suffering the burdens" of his own "images of violence"?"

Teyla was thoughtful. "I think that if these images were created out of the Colonel's own mind, he will have an even better chance of defeating them."

Rodney nodded, somewhat reassured. "And he'll be able to protect her too?" It was Teyla's turn to nod. After a long moment, Rodney continued, almost whispering, as if speaking to himself. "Elizabeth's special, you know? He knows that, too. There aren't many people, not even on Earth that can do what Elizabeth does on Atlantis. Juggling all the scientists and their egos and the military and their hut-hut chain of command crap. Keeping all of us from killing each other…" His voice drifted off and he played with his hands, not able to meet Teyla's eyes. "She's the best I've ever worked for, and Sheppard is too. They're a good team, and good friends."

"They will survive. And tomorrow you will find a way to help them do so." Teyla's eyes were twinkling as McKay groaned.

"Oh, great. Sheppard's given you his "Manipulating McKay 101" manual. It sucks being right all the time…" He lay back with a flop on the blanket, closing his eyes. "We've missed the window you know. We couldn't leave now for another 6 hours if we wanted to." His voice was weary.

"I know."

Seconds later, McKay was softly snoring on his back.

* * *

"Major Lorne, sir?" The voice through the young officer's radio sounded hesitant. 

"I'd be hesitant too if I had to wake up my CO." Thought Lorne, who was in fact just tying up his shoelaces. "Good thing I decided to get up early." The clock glowing next to his bunk had just blinked to 0500 and he glared blearily at it for a few moments before finally realizing he hadn't answered the call yet. He hastily touched his earpiece and stifling a yawn replied "Go, ahead."

"Sir, Col. Sheppard's team hasn't reported in yet. They're an hour and a half overdue and the window closes in a little over two hours. You left orders to contact you if they didn't return."

Lorne sighed deeply. He had been dreading this mission for days and was somehow completely unsurprised that they were late. Not only was both the Military commander of Atlantis AND the expedition leader away, but Sheppard had taken McKay, 2nd in command after Dr. Weir, and his own two best marines. While some ambitious men might have jumped at the chance to be left completely in charge of a post as important as Atlantis, even if it was only overnight local time, Lorne was more eager to explore than command.

Only a few minutes later, he was striding into the control room that seemed overly bright and harsh against the dark windows. One sleepy looking tech sergeant was seated at the communications console, and the lieutenant who had contacted him stood at the top of the stairs. With a nod, Lorne dismissed him back to his post by the gate, guarded 24/7, and startled the technician when he ordered "Dial up Colonel Sheppard's team. We'll try calling them first."

Impatiently tapping his foot until the sergeant nervously glanced at it with an annoyed expression, Lorne instead crossed his arms and bounced a bit. Finally watching the satisfying whoosh of the Stargate make contact with its brother on the distant planet, Lorne pounced on the radio. "Colonel Sheppard this is Atlantis base, come in." Waiting only a second or two he repeated, "Dr. Weir, Colonel Sheppard. You are overdue, please report. Is there still a MALP there?" Directing this last to the tech, he was already moving to the console that controlled the remote cameras, thinking again that the jumble of wires and components from Earth looked so out of place amidst the stark and beautiful technology of Atlantis. He twiddled the dials until an image sprung up on the monitor. It was pitch black on the planet, and Lorne could only tell that he was seeing an image from the MALP, rather than a blank screen, by the subtle impression of trees and stones that reflected shapes in the starlight.

"I don't like this…" he muttered to himself. Not that he had expected to see the missing people, they were planning to be working many miles from the gate, but the fact that it was well into night, well beyond "we just got excited about the ruins" excuses, worried him greatly. He chewed his lip, considering his options, then making his decisions, he snapped at the Tech Sergeant who jumped again at the abrupt words. "Keep the gate open for 15 minutes and continue to try to make contact with Colonel Sheppard or Dr. Weir. And wake the day shift early. Get a full crew working here ASAP."

Lorne watched the sergeant hastily comply, thinking "twitchy little guy…" And then he was headed to the duty room to assemble a recovery team, wondering how many times during his career he would be sent or sending people to look for his CO on a faraway planet in the Pegasus Galaxy….

He had given them 30 minutes, it was just past an hour when the recon team was ready and the jumper was packed. Lorne had permitted the extra time to load not only enough ordinance to fight a small war, but to pack food and water as well. If it took longer than the remaining time in the current window for them to search, they would be stuck there at least another 6 hours.

"Dial it up!" He ordered the jittery sergeant, seemingly still determined to finish his shift despite the now complete command crew busily going about their work around him. Longing to be on board with the men on Jumper 2, Lorne fidgeted while leaning on the rail over the gate platform listening to the sing-song whine of the gate locking in symbols. Everyone looked up, however, when instead of the expected swoosh and light show, there was a grinding moan and the locked chevrons flashed before going dark. "Try it again! We're supposed to have at least an hour more on this window!"

Another moan led to a stubbornly dark gate. Lorne whirled to glare at the control room, hoping something or someone local was to blame.

"Everything's clear on our end, sir." The command crew was quick and efficient and left Lorne disappointed there was no one to yell at. "The problem's at the other end. Maybe the window closed early?"

Again chewing his lip, Lorne thought for another long moment, mostly repeating to himself "I SO do not want this job…"

"Sir?" The voice of his recon commander over his earpiece brought him to the present and he responded quickly, "Recon team, stand down. We've lost the window. Stay close by and geared up, we'll keep trying every hour, on the hour. Lorne out."

Taking one last moment to stare at the silent gate, he yelled over his shoulder, "Get Zelenka up here, now!"


	4. Chapter 4

Elizabeth stumbled on a hidden tree root and felt John's supportive hand on her arm steady her once again. They were walking close together, only the light on his P-90 to guide them. The sky above the trees was bright with stars, or perhaps some orbiting heavenly body they had yet to see directly, but the ground beneath was uneven and hidden in shadow.

It had been at least half an hour since the last sounds of pursuit had died away. They had run until the crunch of enemy footsteps and calls seemed to be all around them, still unseen but frighteningly close. Sheppard had shoved them both down into a twisted pile of rotting wood, the remains of a once massive tree where trembling, Elizabeth fought to control her labored breath lest the noisy panting give them away. Waiting fearfully in the dark, the only thing she could see was the starlit sky above, the only comfort she could draw was from John's warm presence, pressed close as he peered through the branches of their hiding spot, silent and still as a statue.

Closing her eyes, she had tried to ignore the sounds of nearby scuffling and muttering soldiers by concentrating on the sweet scents of the forest: evergreen, rotting leaves, some flowering shrub they had pushed through minutes ago. A hint of masculine sweat and sunscreen mingled with the overpowering natural smells. John had finally whispered, "stay here" and then disappeared so silently, she might have thought he'd never been there if it weren't for the side of her body that now felt chilled.

Several minutes later, the sound of short bursts from a P-90 machine gun followed by several rounds of single-round weapons had driven her even deeper into her nest of tangled tree branches, her heart racing faster than when she had run across the plain. After a few more minutes of agonizing silence, she heard another exchange, this time sounding further away. Unable to stop herself from imagining John's bullet riddled body lying in the forest somewhere, she had nearly jumped out of her skin when he actually dropped down next to her, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his arm and signaling her to follow him.

As he turned to leave she caught a glimpse of his face in a patch of starlight. "John, you're hurt!" The swipe had left a dark smear from his eyebrow to his temple, and looking more closely had revealed several more scratches on his cheek and neck.

"It's just a scratch. Lucky shot blew some bark in my face…"

Now, still steadily climbing upward, the fear was giving way to dull exhaustion. Even still, Elizabeth couldn't help but dwell on the text she had been translating before Sheppard shoved her out of the obelisk's scanning beam. "Peace be with you who come in peace." Her life had been anything but peaceful since she'd read those words. "Enemies of peace will be driven before the wave of their own violence…" Elizabeth pondered the words closely, not so tired as to miss the connection. If they weren't being "driven before a wave of violence" then she was at home asleep in her own bed.

But she wasn't an enemy of peace! She had spent most of her professional life negotiating for peace. In fact, her very first job had been as a congressional lobbyist trying to convince governments to reduce defense budgets and war spending. Looking back with the wisdom of age and experience in a world much more gray than the black and white idealism of her youth, she recognized that she had probably been a pretty damn annoying kid. The decisions she made on Atlantis seemed to test her ideals on an almost daily basis, and she allowed herself a moment of ironic amusement as she recalled the massive amount of "defense budget" she herself had just requested from Stargate Command on Earth. Yet she still believed she was a proponent of peace at her core, that her work on Atlantis would ultimately lead to peace for Earth and Pegasus.

They walked on, seeming to go slower and slower as the night deepened and the incline grew steeper. At least it felt steeper, it could just be that she found it harder and harder to put one foot in front of the other. At last Sheppard stopped, looking around him carefully, sweeping the small point of light from his weapon's flashlight across the ground and walls surrounding them. Elizabeth blinked. Walls? He had led her to a small outcrop of rock that jutted up from the forest floor. Where it met the relatively bare ground, thick with dead leaves and dried evergreen needles, it created a kind of shallow 3-sided cave in one place.

"Will you be alright here if I go scout out the road?" The words were polite, but there was no question in his tense manner. He intended to go, regardless of what she said. Suddenly wary, she nodded and was about to make a reassuringly meaningless statement of her own when he un-holstered his 9 mil and handed it out to her again. The gesture was pointed: Take it.

She closed her eyes and stifled a sigh. She had hoped he would let it go, that he had seen enough in her surprised panic before. Trying first for gentle self-deprecation, she said "Really, John. It's ok. I'd only drop it or lose it or…"

"It's 50 miles to the gate." Elizabeth was shocked by the suppressed anger in John's voice and immediately became wary again, wondering what his point would be. "It will take us at least 36 hours to get there if we stop at night. I need to know you can defend yourself some of that time without me."

Trying hard to understand his concern rather than feel scolded, she tried again with, "I appreciate everything you've done, everything you are doing. But I can't accept it, it's just not in me to. I've spent half my life trying to get people and governments to melt the damn things…" How did one explain to a soldier a lifetime of convictions that suddenly seemed so fragile here in the frightening real world. Or that the truth at the heart of the matter was that she was just simply afraid of the things.

"You sit on Atlantis, you sign the orders every day to send people into danger, into combat. But when it comes to your own protection, you won't defend yourself? You'll stand there and let me and men like me do the dirty work for you, is that it?"

Horrified and angry at how he'd twisted her words she snapped "Look, I _know_ I will never make it to the gate without your help; I _have_ to follow your lead. But just because I don't want to shoot everything in sight doesn't mean I'm defenseless. Nor some…_damsel in distress_ for you to rescue, John Sheppard. I shouldn't have to prove my motives to you after all we've been through. Something is going on here that neither of us understands. And I won't endanger either of us by trying to be someone I'm not."

Still glaring, but seemingly out of words, John slammed the offending weapon down on a ledge of rock near the "entrance" to the shelter. Shouldering his P-90 and preparing to leave, he finally spoke again, quiet anger seething beneath the words. "You've heard the expression, there are no atheists in foxholes? …There are no damn pacifists either. Stay put. Get some sleep. I'll be back in 3 or 4 hours." And with that he was gone, a shadow against the shadows.

For a long while she paced back and forth, angrily continuing the argument in her mind. It was so sudden and unexpected. She and Sheppard usually got along well, their daily interaction rarely pushing the careful boundaries they had created around their roles and responsibilities on Atlantis. She suddenly flopped into the soft compost under the comforting shelter of the outcrop. The shelter he had led her to through unimaginable danger. With a frustrated sigh, she mulled over the message on the marker again, "Peace be with those who come in peace…" She was sure that rest would never find her she felt so wound up and agitated…

In 5 minutes she was fast asleep.

* * *

Sheppard prowled through the dark woods, only survival instinct preventing him from kicking at rocks and twigs. He had mostly been trying to bully Elizabeth; sometimes she just needed a push off her high horse to do the right thing. Instead, between the weight of his responsibility for her, a worry bordering on panic, and her damned stubborn pig-headedness, he had lost his temper. And that annoyed him as much as the argument itself. Settling for a good hard hike up the steepest incline he could find, the exertion finally bled away some of his frustration, and he was able to continue towards his destination with only a muttered curse worthy of the Air Force barracks now and then, an occasional "thick-headed mule" thrown in for added effect. 

Every quarter hour or so, he would stop to listen carefully to the sounds around him, and realign his bearings. He knew basically where he wanted to go, but his only references were from the air. After about 45 minutes, he dropped to his knee when he heard the chatter of soft conversation and the distant crunch of several pairs of feet patrolling the darkness. He had already switched off his flashlight, finding the forest canopy thinner, therefore the ground brighter at the top of the hill and preferring the cover of darkness anyway. Assuring himself that the group was moving away from Elizabeth, he stealthily moved closer, stalking them like a lion stalks prey.

Moving if possible even more silently, he eventually was following near enough to make out individuals in the group and observe their uniforms and any weapons that happened to reveal themselves. There were four men walking loosely in a group, and he realized their speech wasn't so much conversation as a running commentary on their movements and observations. It was very odd, he decided, listening for a while.

Their uniforms were plain generic beige, and tailored in a style that reminded him of old-fashioned WWII designs. He could see no emblems, symbols or rank insignia. Again, it was odd. Every army he had ever encountered, on Earth anyway, no matter how illegitimate in the eyes of the international community had some symbolic design somewhere. Whatever their affiliations, whoever they were, they seemed to be heading back down the hill, following the course Sheppard intended to take tomorrow that would eventually lead to the main and only road.

Satisfied that he had learned all he could from the group…alive… he stopped to let them draw ahead. Still silent, he planted his footing and sighted carefully through the scope on his P-90. Planning his shots, he just as carefully practiced the motion; pop, pop, pop, pop…1,2,3,4. Noting that they would soon take a turn and drop out of sight down a creek bank, he took a final slow breath, held it…

And hesitated.

_"Something is going on here that neither of us understands." _

Still conversing softly, the soldiers continued on unaware of Sheppard's private struggle. A few more steps and they would be out of range. Still he waited.

When the last one walked out of sight, he slowly lowered his weapon. "Well, damn…" he whispered.

An hour later he was standing on a rocky point overlooking the road as it emerged from its unnatural canyon bed and twisted its way into the distance towards the Stargate. The twinkling lights of campfires dotted the road, evenly, if only widely spaced along its path. In some places, two or three sparks of what must have been torches were moving between them. The road was apparently well guarded.

Feeling a sudden, poignant sense of hopelessness he closed his eyes, counting on his natural buoyant optimism to fight the despair. When he opened them again, they lingered on the distant point where the Stargate sat, hidden by hills and mist. He could almost imagine a flicker of blue against the clear bright sky, but he blinked and it was gone. Not even checking his watch to confirm the time, he knew the window of opportunity was closed. No one had come…yet. With one last glance back at the road to burn its path and obstacles into his memory, he turned away and tiredly headed back to Elizabeth…

She woke suddenly but not startled. Some quiet movement of air or inadvertent rustle of fabric had roused her and she blinked, looking around for something familiar to anchor her. She finally settled on John's exhausted form dropping down on both knees to drink greedily from a canteen. "Hi…" she whispered sleepily, and he rolled his head in apology.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." she managed to sit up, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. Studying him closely, she was half watching for any signs of the anger she had seen boiling in him when he stalked away. Instead, he just seemed…weary, his whole body slumped with fatigue and a faint sense of defeat. She couldn't imagine how tired he must be. He had walked God knows how far just during the time she was sleeping, and she happened to know that he had put in a full duty day prior to even leaving Atlantis. His expression seemed haunted, and he stared into space not really seeing anything but the visions in his own mind. "Your turn." she decided firmly, patting the ground next to her and then trying to stand up against the protest of sore muscles. She managed with a stiff lurch.

He seemed to consider for a mere fraction of a second, then nodding, he walked along the rock wall. Choosing a slope he found acceptable he sat down against it, making a show of situating his P-90 just so. At last he closed his eyes and she watched his breathing even out, finally slowing with sleep.

Determined to stand guard, Elizabeth paced a bit to shake off drowsiness and stay awake. Stubbornly avoiding the ledge with the 9mil resting on it, she spotted a thick stick and hefted it happily, giving it an experimental swing or two. As she sat down again in the entrance to their shelter, shifting so as to keep an eye on both the forest and on John, she caught a low chuckle coming from the supposedly asleep man. "Damsel in distress, my Ass."

* * *

"Sir! We've got a lock!" the excited technician shouted across the control room, then realizing sheepishly that he didn't even know if Lorne was in the room at the moment he looked around for the Major. Everyone was watching the flickering blue puddle of light with happy expressions, it had remained stubbornly dark for so long. 

Lorne was running across the "bridge" from Weir's office to the gateroom even as he was chanting orders into his headset. "Recon team leader, we have a go! Get to the jumper ASAP. Lorne out." He paused, both hands on the railing overlooking the Stargate as if to prove to himself that it really had made a connection. 7 hours had passed since they had initially lost contact with the planet and Sheppard's team. 7 long, horrid hours Lorne had been in charge, trying to understand what in the world Dr. so and so was complaining about, and what the chef needed that he didn't have and should've arrived with the Dedalus and on and on and on.

Zelenka and that astronomer…Pesch, it was, had been soaking sensor time all morning to the complaints of the rest of the Atlantis research team until vexed, Lorne had finally snapped and given everyone but the control room crew the day off. Which of course caused a lot of grousing in the control room.

But finally, they had a lock. And Lorne was not going to waste a minute in getting his team through to search for Dr. Weir and drag her back here kicking and screaming if necessary. Glancing to the communications console he inquired with a look, and received a sad shake in reply. No radio contact. Feeling a faint sense of déjà vu he next moved to the MALP station to watch the incoming video. It was daybreak on the planet, judging by the mostly still dark picture, the sky behind the trees at the distant forest line seemed bright compared to the shadowy meadow the gate sat in.

Looking upward involuntarily at the iris to the jumper bay, he impatiently waited for his team to descend. When jumper 2 finally lowered itself gracefully into the gate room, he signaled the go-ahead and with a sense of relief watched it dive into the wormhole. "Not bad," he thought, checking his watch and not above being proud of the speed with which his team had boarded and launched the mission.

Seconds later, a ripple of alarm went through the control room as those watching the MALP relay saw the jumper appear on the other side, then vanish without a trace. Lorne cocked his head closer in confusion, looked at the tech next to him, then back at the monitor which displayed a perfect jumper-free dawn on the planet.

It was then, while Lorne waited for someone to say something, that Zelenka and a short, older man came pelting onto the control platform. The Czech looked worried and breathless as he rushed up to the ruffled Major. "Don't send anyone through the gate!" were Zelenka's first words, spoken with a gasp.

"Too late," replied Lorne gruffly. "What's going on?"

Another shout overlapped Lorne's question, "Sir! We have long-range sensor contact in our solar system. A ship just appeared on the monitors!" Turning from one baffling situation to another, Lorne took a moment to shift gears, and finally snapped, "Can you identify it?"

The technician at communications frowned and touched his ear receiver, listening intently, "We have a signal coming in…It's jumper 2?" The confused expression on the junior officer's face was mirrored on every expression in the room.

"Patch them through," said Lorne, because that was the only thing he could think of to say. A moment later, the slightly static filled radio signal of his recon commander's voice broadcast through the control room speakers.

"Atlantis, this is Jumper 2, do you read? Is the gate still open, do you read?"

"This is Lorne, Jumper 2, how the hell did you get back here?"

The voice on the other end of the radio was confused, "Back here sir? We exited the gate on the ground, then the next second found ourselves in space…Where the hell are we sir?"

"Atlantis just picked you up on the edge of our solar system."

"Atlanis's solar system?" The lieutenant repeated the information, sounding even more confused than before. From the background in the jumper, Lorne could hear another voice say "Confirmed sir, our navigation computer just figured it out."

There was a long pause where no one seemed to be able to speak. Finally Lorne just said, "Set a course and return home Jumper 2. Atlantis out." Whirling on Zelenka, the very frustrated Major practically snarled at the nervous scientist, "What's going on here?"

Zelenka was so startled that he didn't reply for a long moment. Deciding he could only report on what he originally came to say, he finally said, "We've just completed an observational cycle of the area the missing team's planet is located in. More specifically we've been studying the orbit of the black hole that interferes with the gate network's connection to the planet."

"Get to the point gentlemen."

"The black hole's orbit is…varying…more than could possibly be predicted by our earlier observations. In fact, it is behaving most irregularly. Something that is clearly worth an ongoing investigation…"

"Zelenka!" Lorne was nearing another meltdown. Radek must have recognized the signs because he concluded hastily, "Meaning that gate travel between here and there is very unstable. Rather than being predictable cycles, the windows of opportunity are opening randomly, while also growing shorter and further apart. When the black hole reaches the apex of it's orbit, they will close altogether."

Lorne struggled to understand and sort through the technobabble. "So… how long before the windows close altogether?"

"In two days, we will be cut off completely."

"And the jumper we just sent. How did they wind up back in our own neighborhood?"

Zelenka shot a worried glance at the astronomer he had dragged in with him, then looked warily back at Lorne, knowing he wouldn't like the answer. "I have no idea, I can't imagine the gate itself performing that particular…feat, even in the proximity of such an unusual black hole. But…if someone on that planet doesn't want us there, and has the ability to transport a ship so far so fast…" he let the thought trail off.

Lorne finished it for him, "Then we may have no way of finding out what happened to our people…or if they're even still there." 


	5. Chapter 5

Jerking awake and quickly looking over at John's still sleeping form, Elizabeth sighed in relief that he had not seen her nodding. In truth, she had dozed most of the remaining night, but 'all's well that ends well' she thought and stood up yawning. The cool forest around them was coming to life with the twittering of…birds she supposed… and listening to the noise for a while, she began to wonder how John could sleep through all the racket. Walking out further into the woods, she looked expectantly to the east, feeling warmed by the blush of color that leaked through tiny windows in the leaves and branches.

Waiting until the black sky directly overhead had lightened to a deep purple, she went back into their shelter and plopping down, pulled out a Power Bar from one of her many vest pockets. She had to rummage through a few of them to find it, not being as familiar with the inventory as she should be. Ripping open the wrapper at last and taking a hungry bite, she mumbled softly around the chewy tastelessness, "Hey, John!"

The soldier's long body startled, and he spasmodically clutched his gun before sitting up with a groan and a sleep-bemused expression. Staring stupidly around him for a bit, he finally yawned and with a smooth motion got to his feet. She envied the ease with which he moved…she was stiff and sore and would be hobbling for a week, she was sure. He too seemed to listen to the birds for a moment, rubbing absently at the thick new scab near his eyebrow before walking out of sight with a stretch. She let him go, having taken care of that particular need for privacy just a little while ago herself.

When he returned, he seemed fully awake, radiating the cautious restless energy she was most familiar with. Dropping to his knees to sit comfortably on his heels, he also pulled out a bar, his hand going directly to the exact pocket they were in without even a glance down to guide it. Taking half the thing in one bite, he chewed ferociously, the silence between them growing, feeling awkward. Swallowing hard he tried for small talk, sounding a bit forced as he asked, "Did I ever tell you about the Glow bugs on that damn planet where the wraith ship crashed?" Elizabeth nodded, having just taken another bite herself, and he went on, "They loved these damn things," he waved his bar before shoving the rest into his mouth. "Me, I think they taste like a chunk out of my jumper's fuselage." His hands now free, he began a manual check of his weapons and ammunition and she recognized a routine born of long practice and frequent repetition.

Unable to resist, she asked as innocently as she could muster… "_Your_ jumper?"

He looked at her for a moment as if it were obvious and simply said, "Yes."

When he stood again and walked out of their cozy niche in the rock this time she followed, unable to resist a glance at the rock shelf as she passed by. The 9 mil was gone, back in John's holster. With a sigh, she was soon standing next to him as he paused to gather his thoughts and plan for the day's long journey.

"The road is guarded," he eventually said, looking at her to let her know he was including her in the decisions. "but I still think it's the best way to get to the gate. Corrigan said he thought it had been built for foot travel, so that probably means it's also the easiest route, despite adding a few miles. The guard posts were set up about every 10 miles, and they were patrolling in a classic downstream formation. I think we can avoid most of the sentry points, and take care of any of the patrols we may run into…" he was stroking his weapon unconsciously with the statement and Elizabeth understood clearly what "take care of" meant. She waited for a moment to be sure he had finished thinking it through out loud.

"I think the road sounds good, at least we'll know what to expect…you said it's 50 miles to the gate?"

"Mmmm." He replied, stepping out briskly in a direction he was obviously certain of. "Less than that now. It was right at 50 to the Ziggurat. We were already a couple miles down the road when we broke for cover. We probably traveled another couple last night."

"Could we make it to the gate tonight then?" Elizabeth was more wishful than sanguine, and sure enough John just shook his head.

"There's a major river between us and the gate. I want to make it across before we stop, we might be able to slow down reinforcements from the rear and buy us some rest overnight if we blow the bridge behind us. The gate is another, oh 4-5 hours beyond that. We'll make it by midday tomorrow."

They walked along, each lost in separate thoughts for a while. Actually, Elizabeth thought to herself, "scrambled along" would have been more accurate. There was no convenient trail, so they were climbing over or pushing through plants, trees and brush most of the time. Sheppard seemed more intent upon a direct course today, and once she recognized the effort of navigating in such a difficult environment, she was shocked they had traveled so far with such stealth last night. Watching the ease with which John hopped over a mossy fallen tree trunk she couldn't help but ask, "Grow up in the woods, did you?"

"No." He twisted around just enough to answer but in doing so, missed a groove in the hard soil cut by rain runoff. Tripping comically, he windmilled his arms into a kind of pirouette before regaining his usual agile balance.

Knowing he would not appreciate it, she tried hard not to laugh and just said pointedly, "City kid, then."

Sounding disgruntled, he shot back, "Military brat."

Of course. For some reason the thought sobered her. Born and raised to fight and protect, kill and survive. She could understand his frequent frustration with her and the other civilians on Atlantis, and yet she felt more comfortable working with him than any other Military commander she had yet encountered. There was an intelligent gentleness deep inside that his upbringing and career had buried perhaps, but not driven out.

Mentally preparing herself, she finally brought up the issue she was most concerned about this morning. "I've been thinking about what the message on that stone marker said…and about how or at least why an army would suddenly come after us."

As she expected, John tensed immediately. "I told you, I don't care."

"Hear me out John! The Ancient text I was able to translate said 'Enemies of Peace will be driven before a wave of their own violence.'…"

"Damn poetic of them." He seemed determined to avoid the conversation. Calling on her own deep reserves of stubbornness she ploughed on, "What if this is some kind of test to see if we have peaceful intentions, or a misunderstanding because we came armed. The tablet seemed very concerned with nonviolence. At the time when I was reading it…"

"It decided to do a little reading of it's own! I should have blown the thing up right then, like I wanted to. It could have done anything to you, Elizabeth. Anything! Including microwave a few of those cute curls right off your head…" Realizing he'd raised his voice, John walked a little quicker as if to run away from his own temper.

"But don't you see! You were scanned too, and moments after you're thinking "blow it up" a barrage of missiles appears and nearly blows _us_ up. I just feel like it's worth thinking about, maybe it means we should…"

"What!" Turning on his heel, he stopped to face her. Startled, she too came to an abrupt halt. "What should we do? Saunter up to the next patrol we see and say, 'Excuse me, have we offended you?' and hope that if we apologize real hard for _thinking_ naughty thoughts they won't shoot us in the head?"

She wasn't going to back down, but the negotiator in her decided to back-pedal verbally for the good of the greater point. "Of course not. I'm not suggesting we turn ourselves in or do anything foolish." With that, Sheppard turned back to his stalking, leaving her to jog after him, pressing her final thought and hoping he would at least hear it. "I just think we should be careful and try to, I don't know, tread lightly. Avoid the soldiers rather than engage them. Maybe if we leave them alone, they'll leave us alone, and let us go home."

He openly scoffed at the suggestion, a harsh humorless laugh that left Elizabeth bristling, but before she could retort he growled, "Fine. But let's phrase it this way: I'll leave them alone if they stay the hell away from me. If they let me get you home, I'll send a thank you card with flowers and promise never to think about violent things again. That is, right _after_ I take a jumper and blow that fucking building to hell and find out what happened to Ronan and Teyla."

Elizabeth caught her breath at the anguish in Sheppard's voice. She had worked with McKay longer than any of them, and depended greatly on his work with the science team to help run Atlantis. She felt a warm camaraderie with Teyla and they sometimes shared their burdens of leadership over tea. She ached for everyone they had left behind, the worry and fear for their safety a constant presence. But she hadn't known how deeply Sheppard was feeling the separation from his team, and the realization unsettled her. He had seemed so sure, so confident when he pulled her into the forest and over the hill…

Drawing back, she followed him more slowly, feeling like she had made her point. And even, she realized, won a small concession: he wouldn't go looking for trouble.

* * *

Walker, Jones, Corrigan and the others simply stared in amazement. Teyla couldn't quite smother the amusement she felt as she watched them watching Ronan and McKay. She was used to her teammates' capacity for devouring food, but looking through others' eyes, she found their eager slurping and shoveling all the more entertaining. Most people found the standard MREs unappealing, especially in the morning when "beef ravioli" or "meatloaf" for breakfast seemed particularly unappetizing. But Ronan and Rodney possessed a special ability to enjoy any and all of it, in large quantities. Though Sheppard often fasted, especially on stressful missions, when he did join them in a group display of male appetite, Teyla sometimes felt like a disapproving matron, torn between humor and disgust… The innocent thought, however, left her dwelling on her missing friends. She was almost relieved when Rodney slapped his hands on his trousers and stood up still chewing. 

"Ok, so who's going with me to the Welcoming Stone?"

Walker and Jones exchanged uneasy looks, but Ronan grunted immediately, "I will."

Teyla nodded her approval and rose, "I will join you as well. Walker, you remain with the base camp, Jones, check out the perimeter and then return here as well." The two marines nodded smartly, accepting her direction as they would from Sheppard. Noticing, however, Jeff Corrigan's unhappy expression, she spoke to him kindly as she passed by. "Dr. Corrigan? When we return, we will depend on your help to translate the writings and understand how we should proceed." He seemed cheered by the prospect of contributing, even if he was not up to walking the distance to the marker. His shoulder was still sore and aching, but not any danger to his life.

As the three finished gathering together the recording gear and digital camera etc. they hoped to be able to use, they squared off at the end of the road, Teyla and Ronan studying it warily and wondering what if any resistance there would be. Rodney was clumsily strapping his holster onto his leg and chewing loudly. Apparently he had decided to round off his breakfast with a Power Bar. "You're so good at that," he told Teyla, having to grab quickly for the belt as it slipped down over his hips, threatening to fall off completely.

"At what Dr. McKay?"

"At that…" He waved in the general direction of where Corrigan was sitting with the other scientists, "Making people feel better. I'm not very good at it."

"Perhaps you just need to practice a bit more," was Teyla's diplomatic answer. Rodney's belt finally situated, she asked, "How do you suggest we proceed?"

Mouth full of food again, Rodney thought a moment before swallowing and answered, "I think if we just take it slow, try not to look threatening, they might let us walk that far. They clearly don't want us to leave, but if we don't look like we're trying to, they should leave us alone."

"They'd better." Ronan still seemed to take his inability to find something or someone to fight personally, and Teyla was worried he was eager for something to happen. She was about to caution him when McKay beat him to it.

"I'm serious, Ronan. We can't provoke them. Our only chance to learn _anything_ that might help Sheppard and Elizabeth is sitting a mile down this road and we have to play it cool to get there!" For all their differences in background and style, Ronan and McKay did respect each other's areas of expertise, even if only grudgingly. Ronan scowled and holstered his massive weapon as if putting it out of temptation's reach.

"Well then." Rodney stood bouncing on his toes, looking eager to move, but apparently not eager enough to take that first step.

"Dr. McKay?"

"Yes, of course." And they walked. It was only about 100 yards when the first squad silently appeared. Ronan twitched, and McKay murmured, "Easy…easy." Walking slowly closer and then around the formation he hesitantly called to them saying, "We're just going on a little walk here, don't mind us. No escaping intended…" The 6 holo-soldiers looking remarkably real and solid, which Teyla reminded herself they were, shuffled into a casual escort formation, lowering their weapons. "Good!" Rodney enthused, clapping his hands together.

The second squad materialized to join the first another 100 yards out, weapons still lowered, but clear in their message: don't try anything. They walked on like that, more soldiers joining the ranks every few minutes, the freshly dug craters of missile fire along the way reminding them of the very real threat. When they at last reached the obelisk that had caused Elizabeth such excitement, a whole throng of holograms stood spread out around them. Walking, stretching and shifting with eerie realism, their complete verbal silence was the only giveaway that these were not real men.

"I see why Elizabeth was impressed," commented Rodney, the fascination of the stone device distracting him from their rustling escort. Hastily remembering what he was here for, he pulled out his camcorder and the digital still camera. The latter he thrust at Ronan who merely raised an eyebrow at him and refused to reach out for it. After a moment, Rodney realized he was still holding the thing and with a sigh handed it to Teyla instead, Ronan chuckling humorlessly.

They both began to circle the 4 sided marker, and it was Rodney who noticed the circles of stone set into the ground, just at the point one might stand if they were trying to view a whole panel, one stone for each language. Ronan examined the ground in front of the panel written in Ancient, and pointed out the fresh scuff marks, and the clear impression of a military-style boot sole.

"I'd bet that standing on one of those circles activates the stone," Rodney hypothesized. "From what that old man said, I guess Sheppard and Elizabeth both stood on it."

"Weir activated it, Sheppard shoved her out of the way," elaborated Ronan, pointing out the tracks in the dirt that told the story.

"Should we try to activate it ourselves? See if there is a way to communicate with the Stone and ask it to end the trial?" Teyla was not going to leave any avenue unexplored in her search for a way to help.

Rodney looked terrified at the thought, but considered the question, "I really have no idea. It could make things worse, or decide to add us to the trial and I ate too much to dodge missiles all the way back to the jumper."

Pausing for only a moment, Teyla looked to Ronan, "I believe it is worth the risk. I will step upon the stone. If I am to be tested as well, you must return to the others and continue to work on another solution." Ronan nodded, accepting her instructions.

"Think happy thoughts!" McKay blurted as she moved towards the nearest circle, "This message waxes on about peace and happiness like a bad Hallmark card…" Receiving only blank looks from the Pegasus natives, Rodney rolled his eyes and continued, "I just mean try concentrating on Sheppard and Weir and "let us go" and nothing else."

Teyla clutched her weapon tightly as she prepared to step onto the stone, then thinking better of it, she unclipped the P-90 and set it down on the grass. Closing her eyes to focus her thoughts she repeated to herself, "we only wish to return home." She stepped onto the circle and waited a long moment, finally looking around at Rodney for suggestions. He stood frantically poking his own scanning device, and when she moved as if to step away, he hastily raised his hand and said quickly, "No, no, no, it's scanning you. Just stay put. Think happy." Feeling nothing, she simply concentrated again on her message until Ronan told her, "It's done."

She stepped off and they all stood expectantly, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, they exchanged nervous looks and waited a bit longer. Finally, feeling a keen sense of disappointment, they each gave the silent stone a last discouraged glare and turned back onto the path towards camp. Their silent guard diminished as it had grown, more disappearing with each step closer to the jumper. Rodney spent the entire walk engrossed in his palm sensor and seemed to grow even more frustrated the further they walked.

As they walked into their makeshift encampment, he blurted out to nobody in particular, "These power readings are simply incomprehensible. Those holographic characters must require massive energy for each of them, yet that _thing_…" he gestured crossly at the ziggurat brooding over them, "hums along like it's simply charging AA batteries. I was hoping to see _some_ power fluctuation as it brought the soldiers on and off line." Teyla wondered at the odd melancholy that crept into McKay's voice as he spoke the last. Finally he added more softly, "I thought maybe we could take some heat off Sheppard by drawing more characters here to us…"

Rodney was soon drawn out of his regret when Corrigan called eagerly to him, "What did you find? Did the writings say anything useful?" McKay shrugged and stopped briefly to pick up his computer before sitting next to the anthropologist. And then they were working heads together to input the images into the tablet, nodding over the interesting new languages. Hoping that something in the message would reveal a way to help.

* * *

Sheppard and Weir reached the road only an hour after abandoning their nighttime shelter. Crouching in the thick groundcover alongside the gleaming stone, John made them wait for a long while before venturing out onto it himself. Leaving Elizabeth he disappeared across the smooth surface back in the direction of the plain. Trying to take the opportunity to rest, Elizabeth sat amidst leaves and feathery branches with her head on her knees. 

Sheppard seemed to be going for over-compensating politeness after their second argument in 8 hours, she thought. His "I'll be back as soon as I can" as he left still rang awkwardly in her ears. Staying angry wasn't a skill he was good at, though she knew the man could hold a grudge. No, he was much more likely to avoid any more confrontation, and bury the issue deep under a veneer of wry sarcasm and boyish wit.

When he came back, walking openly towards her on the path, she scrambled out to join him. He motioned for her to keep walking with him and he took a small measured sip from his canteen before reporting, "I don't think anyone else is on the road for at least a mile in either direction, if we're lucky we'll stay in between any patrol groups and never see them at all." While he seemed comfortable enough to venture onto the road proper, he was still wary and exuded tense alertness. They stayed close to one edge of the path as well, within an easy jump into the cover of brush and brambles.

Ten or twenty minutes later and feeling she couldn't stand the nervous silence any longer she asked hesitantly, just for something to say, "You said something about 'downstream patrol formation'. What is that?" She wasn't sure he'd answer…

"It's a way to hold a road and patrol it at the same time," again his voice sounded forcedly cheerful, but at least he was talking. "Guard stations are set up and reinforcements are sent from the main encampment "downstream" to the first post. They stop there and guard while others from that first camp move on down the road to the second camp and so on. Keeps the road patrolled, and keeps the guards alert by moving them post-to-post, but no one has to travel too far. Saw a lot of it in Northern Afghanistan, they were usually patrolling in trucks and vehicles though…" his voice grew thoughtful as he added, "Actually, it's not a very useful strategy for stopping or catching fugitives. We're lucky they're patrolling on foot, too, much harder to overtake us if we hit the timing just right."

The silence didn't seem as uncomfortable after that, somehow knowing at least _something_ about the obstacles facing them helped Elizabeth. The first hour passed quickly, and they pressed on at a pace equally quick. During the second hour, she felt John relax bit by bit as they met no one, and nothing came up behind them. At one point she even caught him without his P-90 in its usual death grip, stretching and rubbing his face with his hands and wincing a bit as doing so abraded the still tender scratches. Thinking that on anyone else she would worry about the scratches leaving scars, but on John, who was more beautiful than a man had any right to be, they would probably just make him appear rugged and handsome even the more so…

It was nice walking like this, she decided. When John wasn't radiating toxic nervous anxiety into the environment she could almost pretend she was back in her college days, hiking through Northern California with a comfortable lodge and a glass of wine waiting for her. She and her friends had made several trips west in the summers to take advantage of off-season ski resorts. When they were lucky, they would wait tables for a month and not even have to pay lodging.

Still daydreaming, she really noticed the forest foliage for the first time. Some of the trees looked so familiar, she could almost give Earth names to them: Pine, Fir, Cedar… Others surprised her by how alien they looked, and she couldn't believe she hadn't seen that before. There were also creatures. The birds not only _sounded_ like "birds" but seemed to fly on the same principle too. When a very odd two-legged rabbit with green fur dashed across the road in front of them, though, she had to laugh out loud. Sheppard also paused for a moment to appreciate the animal, and when she noticed him watching, she had to say, "My great-grandma Weir would have called _that_ a 'varmint'. Looked like something out of Alice in Wonderland."

"Looked like lunch to me." John deadpanned and Weir's smile froze, not sure if he was serious and wondering for just a split second if she really would have to eat a green two legged rabbit from some alien planet God knows where in the Pegasus Galaxy…

Finally grinning roguishly, he waved his hand and said "Nah, just kidding." Relieved, Elizabeth chuckled and rolled her eyes, but Sheppard wasn't letting her off the hook quite yet because he added, suddenly mock serious, "Can't risk building a fire to cook with…" and he stalked on, pretending to ignore her. Not quite sure whether to laugh or be very, very worried, she settled for following with a nervous smile.

As they entered into the 3rd hour of the morning, it was like the past hour in reverse. With every step, John became more wary and his growing tension rubbed off on Elizabeth to such a degree that she also found herself walking softly and with frequent glances behind them. They were approaching the first guard post.


	6. Chapter 6

As John's internal pedometer indicated they'd hit the 10 mile mark, he began looking for the landmarks he had memorized from his overlook the night before. Uneasy with being on the road this close to a known enemy position, he began leaving Elizabeth behind at bends, scouting ahead himself and then signaling her forward with a wave. They proceeded cautiously like that for perhaps another 20 minutes until he finally spotted the tall dead tree just off the east side of the road he'd been looking for.

Returning to her, he grabbed her hand so he could silently guide her off the path and back into the undergrowth of the deep forest. With any luck they would simply make their way around the blockade, avoiding it and the enemy soldiers completely. Optimistically, they could be back on the road beyond it within the hour. Still pulling her along, he helped her scramble up a fairly steep incline that bordered the natural valley the road was winding through.

Once they reached level ground, and found a dry stream bed they could follow with little vegetation in their way, he let go and moved to his usual forward position, both hands back on the familiar grooves of his P-90. The metal of the powerful weapon felt cold and rough, and he was surprised by the regret he felt at having to drop Elizabeth's hand. He had taken hers to offer support and comfort, and instead felt himself receiving more from her steady trust and dogged perseverance than he seemed to be giving. "You're getting old and soft, John." He thought to himself ruefully, trying to shake off the melancholy and focus on the task ahead.

The streambed was a major advantage, winding along in just the direction they wished to go and offering both a clear path and cover if they needed it. Trying to walk as quietly as he could on the crunchy gravel, he was pleased to hear Elizabeth taking the same care. They were soon at the point where he guessed they were directly alongside the sentry post. Pausing for a long moment, debating with himself, he finally sat against one of the steeper banks and ran a quick weapons check. Whispering to Elizabeth as she joined him he said, "I need to check out their encampment. See if I can tell when they'll be sending out the next patrol, see how many there are…"

Noticing her frown, he was ultimately surprised when she finally said, "I want to come too." He had been expecting "Don't go…"

For some reason he found himself grinning, even as he shook his head. "Stay put. I'll only be 10 minutes." Launching out of the relative shelter of the natural trench, he did take a moment to look back and be certain she had followed his order before he was out of sight.

Only perhaps a quarter mile through the forest he found himself overlooking the road and guard post, the road having cut through a gentle hill leaving a steep wall of rock below him. It was a great place for a barricade, he decided. The slopes on either side of the road prevented any chance of easy escape in those directions. Unless you left the road well ahead of the natural formation as he had, you'd be hard put to gun your way through. The post itself was only a campfire, a tent and what looked like a trunk of supplies. Six soldiers were in sight, two of which were stationed facing up the road, looking alert, weapons ready to bear. Two others were moving casually around the campsite.

The last two were the ones John was most interested in. They seemed to be gearing up for a hike, loading canvas duffle-shaped backpacks and stretching a little. Sure enough, after only a minute of watching, they waved to their colleagues and shouldering their own weapons smartly, they marched off "downstream" in the direction he himself would soon be heading. Pleased with the bit of luck, he checked his watch carefully to mark the time, hoping he could eventually get a bead on their sentry patterns and then stealthily turned away.

* * *

Elizabeth watched John launch himself out of the streambed and crossing her arms petulantly almost found herself tapping her foot with impatience. She _had_ wanted to go too. Not to keep an eye on John or out of fear of being alone, but because she was restless. She needed to feel more in control of her situation, it was unusual for her to be so dependent on anyone else for so long. Sighing and finally deciding that there was enough to worry about without getting angry with John, again, she drew up her knees and tried to rest. In fact, the break from the steady walking did feel rather good. 

It wasn't until a few minutes later when she decided to try lying out like John seemed to prefer that she caught a glint of something shiny resting on a tangle of tree roots sticking out of the earthy bank: John's 9mil within easy reach. With a startled laugh, she couldn't settle on whether to feel infuriated or insulted. Deciding instead that she had finally met someone very nearly as stubborn as herself she found it all the more amusing. When true to his word he returned in 10 minutes, she was quietly resting against the bank, eyes closed, the weapon untouched.

* * *

McKay and Teyla looked at Dr. Corrigan warily out of the corner of their eyes. So far the ruse was working… 

After spending most of the morning puzzling out the grammar of some of the unknown languages, in particular the language also found on the Ziggurat itself, Corrigan and McKay had bounded towards the panel Rodney had spent so much time in front of already. The only markings they had found on the otherwise featureless building were written in a shallow alcove directly at the end of the steps, which in turn flowed out of the end of the ancient roadway. They had been eager to see what they could puzzle out with their new information.

It was therefore a complete surprise when a squad of the now all-too-familiar soldiers had appeared barring the way past the bottom step. Seeming to be guarding the panel itself, the soldiers had even opened fire as Rodney tried his "not up to anything" routine on them, sending the two Atlantis scientists scurrying back to the jumper.

A long tense conversation had followed, with many glances back at the alcove still guarded by the holograms that seemed unwilling, this time, to disappear. Corrigan had finally insisted that he try to get at least close enough to see the writing and work on translating what he could. Teyla, Ronan and Walker had stood nervously watching the still shaky anthropologist wander casually down the steps with nothing but Rodney's tablet computer under his arm. When the soldiers, also watching closely, began to raise their weapons, Corrigan stretched and performed an exaggerated yawn, finally sitting down on the step right where he had been standing. The soldiers had finally lowered their arms, and shifted back to "at ease" positions.

As McKay watched, Corrigan slowly and casually set the tablet on his knees and squinted towards the panel, eventually beginning to type and becoming more and more engrossed in his work.

With a sigh, Rodney breathed, "I think he's done it!"

"Dr. Corrigan is indeed very brave!" Teyla's praise was warmly spoken. Finally it seemed they were making some progress, for if the panel was so important it was worth guarding, then surely they were on the right track in learning about it.

Finding himself with nothing to do for the moment, McKay was something at a loss. Thinking yet again, "I wish Elizabeth were here," he glanced one last time to be certain Corrigan was still safe. Dr. Weir's knowledge of languages and expertise with Ancient in particular would be of incredible help as they tried to understand the new panel. But, Rodney supposed, if she _were_ here, _they_ wouldn't be here desperately trying to translate it, so he wouldn't be wishing she were here… Getting lost in his own circular train of thought, he decided that maybe he should just have lunch.

He wandered to the jumper to rummage out some rations, then decided to sit near the campfire, cold and black as it was. Nearly everyone was elsewhere, either standing guard, or in the case of the remaining science team, in the jumper itself working on the sensor command pathways, trying to get power to…anything. Perhaps he would go help them after he ate he decided. Not long later, Walker and Jones wandered by in their slow patrol pattern around and around the campsite, chatting idly.

"No, seriously, you think anyone's going to believe that we've been stuck on a damn holo-deck for 2 days?"

"Sure, this galaxy is friggin' nuts. Anything can happen. Most of the guys have had weird shit go down offworld. What's a 'holo-deck'?"

"You know, from that space show. My nerdy kid brother watched it all the time. Dudes were always hanging out on the holo-deck, made people appear and stuff. Too bad we can't just turn all these assholes off too."

"Oh sure. Was that the one with the hot shrink?"

"_Totally_, that chick had the biggest…"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Rodney's flash of insight, propelled him off the ground to pounce at the two marines. Jones froze, his hands in a rather peculiar formation in front of his chest and blushing furiously could only stammer "I apologize, SIR! It won't happen again sir."

Confused, Rodney frowned, then shook his head a little, "No, what did you say about turning them off?"

Jones glanced at Walker as if to say "huh?" but replied anyway, "I just said wouldn't it be great if we could turn the hologram soldiers off…too…" He trailed off as Rodney turned and ran away in mid-answer.

Rodney's mind was racing a million miles an hour as he wandered through the camp looking for Teyla. "Holo-deck", he kept thinking, "why didn't I see it as a holo-deck?" Finally spotting her he raced up and blurted out, "We have to get to a drone. If we can launch a drone or even more than one, I think we can take out the satellites controlling the holograms and maybe even free the jumper!"

Clearly taken aback, Teyla could only stare and utter a confused, "What are you talking about, Dr. McKay?"

Trying to slow down enough to explain, his words still came out in a breathless rush, "This whole place is a platform for holographic manipulation, at least as far as between here and the gate but possibly the whole planet as well. A holo-deck!" At her blank expression, Rodney slouched in an annoyed show of exasperation, but continued on, "That probably means something above the surface of the planet is broadcasting the images, satellites probably, or maybe a network of energy platforms in geo-synchronous orbit. It all fits. The energy readings here in the ziggurat don't fluctuate because it is not generating the characters directly, the remote satellites are…"

Teyla finally caught up and with a surge of excitement of her own she interrupted, "And if we destroy some of these satellites, they will no longer be able to create the soldiers on the ground. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir can reach the gate unchallenged!"

"Yes! And if we're lucky, they're also what's holding the jumper down and we'll be able to fly out of here as well."

"By all means! Proceed Rodney!"

Rodney's triumphant grin faded a little as the thrill of the discovery faded into the reality of the effort involved…effort he now needed to reveal to Teyla. "Um, well, it probably won't be that easy. If the jumper's disabled to the point we can't extend the drive pods or even less likely fire the drones directly, then we'll have to…sort of…take apart the jumper, retrieve the drones, cobble together a way to fire the drones without a direct interface, and, um put the jumper back together again before we can fly out."

Teyla's sigh of resignation was filled with frustration and barely concealed sorrow. "Then, by all means, begin…"

* * *

Bypassing the second sentry station wasn't going so well, Elizabeth thought. She almost snorted out loud at the understatement. 

They'd been spotted approaching the guard post, this time situated in a broad meadow. John had remembered the feature from the flight in, but of course had no way of knowing that was where the enemy forces would be. It was a damn good spot for a roadblock, she thought, even knowing nothing about military strategy. The road bisected the almost perfectly circular space, leaving no cover for many yards, and making the way around many more steps than they would have liked.

Not that that mattered now. The alert guards from the sentry post were stationed close to the point where the road spilled into the meadow. Staring intently down the road, they had caught a glimpse of John as he cautiously rounded a rather sharp bend, repeating the scout-ahead routine as he had before. Shouting, the two sentries had given pursuit and John had no choice but to run back down the road to yank Elizabeth into the forest.

They were running pell-mell with the sound of the two pursuers behind them, brush and twigs catching their pants as they tore through, unable in their haste to attempt stealth. The guards were calling to each other and Elizabeth could hear them trying to organize their chase when John jerked her so hard in a new direction, she did a kind of long legged lurch before regaining her pace. "Sorry," he breathed softly sounding neither sorry nor apologetic, and was next leaping over a long fallen log to crouch behind it, pulling her to sit down too even before he whispered the command.

She sat panting with her back to the spongy bark, John close next to her resting his weapon and his torso over the top, watching in the direction they had come. She heard him hold a sharp intake of breath before the staccato crackle of his rapid-fire weapon brought her hands to her ears. John ducked and sprinkles of bark flew around them as the barrage of return fire splattered against the rotting wood. "Shit!" she heard him curse fiercely to himself, "when the hell did they get automatics?" A second later she exclaimed "Ouch!" and jerked her arm as if stung by a bee.

The instant the return fire paused John popped back up and with a perfectly executed sweep of his weapon's muzzle, removed the 2nd and final pursuer from the equation. The echoes of the last rounds reverberated for a long while over the silent landscape. Standing back, P-90 aimed high at the forest canopy and breathing hard as if he'd been spooked, John looked down with horrified eyes at Elizabeth who was indifferently poking at the matched set of holes through her jacket sleeve. "You Ok?" The plaintive query choked with worry drew her away from the interesting holes to look him in the face. Surprised by the fear she saw there, she hastily answered, "Yes, it's just a scratch. Mostly just went through the jacket, I think it went through the log first…" Mostly she just wanted to forget it, before the numbness wore off and realization of the close call actually sunk in.

He seemed to be struggling with…something… anxiety or anger she couldn't tell which. Finally he managed to say, "We have to go, they'll follow the gunfire this way." She stood up immediately and stepped close, indicating she was ready. Her quick response seemed to reassure him somewhat but he took a moment longer to inspect the very minor wound with a suddenly gentle touch. She watched him as she held her arm up, but he wouldn't meet her gaze.

Still avoiding a direct look, he shouldered his weapon with an angry snap and they began making their way again through the undergrowth. When Elizabeth noticed the open patch of light to their right, she understood that he was leading them around the rim of the meadow, still hoping to circle back to the road past the sentry post. Unfortunately, the rest of the detail at the post had anticipated such a move. She caught a glimpse of a soldier quietly stalking through the tall grass just beyond the tree line even as she realized John had already frozen, his right hand clenched into a fist and raised to shoulder level. She took another two quiet steps to draw nearer, which earned her a thoroughly disgusted look from Sheppard.

Together they crouched waiting to see what the tan-clad soldier would do, all too aware that they were within sight should he look in just the right direction. For a moment it seemed he was going to wander away…right before he squinted in their direction and eagerly raising his weapon, took a single step closer. A _POP_ sounded above Elizabeth's left ear and the soldier fell back, managing a cry as he dropped. Then John was dragging her up and she was stumbling after, continuing to stare at the downed man even as she ran, horrified fascination transfixing her until they were out of sight of the meadow altogether.

In only a few yards more they hit a trickling creek, and with an audible sigh of relief, John jumped down the bank, turning back to offer Elizabeth a supporting hand as she also landed. He turned downstream to jog along the gravel beach. They were heading away from the meadow and the road she realized, feeling a sense of unease as they left the only path she knew in the unfamiliar landscape. After following their babbling guide for 20 minutes or so, with no sounds of pursuit, John finally slowed down, relaxing somewhat and shaking out his arms as if after a sprint at a sporting event.

"Where are we going?" She asked at last, the uncertainty of their direction preventing her from feeling quite the sense of closure that John seemed to feel.

"We'll follow this creek until it joins back up with the road downstream. It snakes around and they cross several times."

She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious that he was making it up just to reassure her, "How can you know that!"

"I saw it from the jumper."

"You noticed from 100 feet in the air, going 100 miles an hour that _this_ creek goes in _this_ direction back to the road?"

Not noticing or choosing to ignore her dubious sarcasm, he simply shrugged without turning and said, "Yes."

Dumb with admiration at his talent and in awe of his modest disregard for the skill she found simply incredible, she stumbled a few steps, staring at his back agape. _Born and raised…_

Still unable to shake the anxiety of the firefight she had just lived through she was unsettled by his ability to shoot, presumably kill, three people then walk on down the road. "So much for treading lightly," she thought. She rubbed at the scratch on her arm, feeling again the sting and seeing again the bark flying around her. A small angry voice, deep in her mind replied, "So much for leaving us the hell alone..."

* * *

They reached the road again and found it dim and empty, the tall closely packed trees of this part of the forest already casting long shadows as the sun dipped into late afternoon in the West. Days were short on this planet and they had at least two, maybe three more hours of walking to reach the bridge. 

John could sense Elizabeth growing more and more tired as they marched on and on. Hell, _he_ was tired, and he did this sort of thing all the time. Although, he admitted, he usually had enough warning to bring along more substantial rations than a handful of Power Bars and the single MRE he'd surprised Elizabeth with for an evening meal. Still grinning at the very unladylike haste with which she had devoured her half, even his growling stomach agreed it had been worth it to "lose" the coin toss over dessert and watch her enjoy the treat.

It would be dark when they reached the bridge, he decided, trying to think through their options once they reached the sure-to-be-guarded crossing. The enemy had been too damn efficient in placing their sentry posts so far, and he expected no less ahead. And they had to get across. Tonight.

He had kept silent track of the gate windows, as he knew them from Rodney's original predictions, throughout the night and day. His tension rose and fell as each mark passed, expecting to see a fleet of jumpers fly overhead at the beginning of every open window, regret and frustration peaking at every close. The window he was worried about would shut down around midday tomorrow, and if they didn't make it by then, they'd be trapped again until nightfall. They couldn't afford to miss it.

A small part of him was beginning to worry about the gate itself, because he _knew_ that Lorne would spare no effort in trying to get here. Imagining a gate surrounded by another battalion of troops and the wrecked remains of crashed jumpers was a distraction, he decided, and he pushed the images from his mind.

Night fell and the chirping birds were replaced by the softer sounds of nocturnal creatures. John and Elizabeth drew close together, both for safety and, though neither of them would admit it even to themselves, for the comfort of each other's presence.

There was no need to creep the last mile this time. The road made a sudden dramatic descent to the river valley and, for a moment, they had a clear view of the next 2 miles ahead. A wide slow river sparkled in the starlight below and the twinkle of campfires winked as figures moved around them, occasionally blocking the light.

They had reached the bridge.


	7. Chapter 7

"Would you be careful with that!" McKay's petulant voice seemed to grow louder rather than softer with fatigue as the evening wore into night. "I spent 6 hours on the bottom of the ocean up to my neck in freezing water because of incompetent boobs not paying attention to what they were doing. I'd rather not do it again." The poor scientist, neither mechanic nor tech specialist merely nodded tiredly and continued tugging on the bolt he'd been working on for the last half hour.

"If he brings that up again, I'm going to dunk him up to his neck into the ground," Ronan whispered crossly to Teyla. They were both standing guard at the jumper's ramp, the group consensus being that one could only stand Rodney for an hour or so at a time. As such, an informal rotation of sorts had worked itself out over the afternoon.

They had wasted some few hours trying to access the drones from the exterior of the ship, trying to route power to open the drive pods, then even attempting brute force to pry them open far enough to reach in. Finally giving up on the easy path, they had begun tearing the ship apart from the inside, every bolt and internal power relay seeming to fight them with deliberate obstacles. At the moment, McKay, Jones and one of the science team were disassembling the panel behind the benches, storage compartments, and part of the floor taken out earlier. Rodney's hope was that once this relay was breeched, the exterior drive pod mechanism would be accessible, the drones tucked within its inner housing.

"RODNEY! You've got to see this!" Teyla turned at the shout to see Jeff Corrigan racing towards the jumper. He had returned to the camp after several hours of sitting at his post near the Ziggurat and had continued to study the text as he rested nearby. At the moment he was waving one of Rodney's hand sensors in the air as he ran.

McKay appeared at the ramp and walked down it to meet Corrigan at the bottom, looking simultaneously interested and annoyed by the interruption in his work.

"What is it?" Teyla asked, not wanting to be left out of any useful information.

"This can't be right." Rodney was poking at the sensor Corrigan had handed to him, and they were both facing the Ziggurat. Either responding to Teyla's question or simply talking to himself out loud he added, "The power readings just jumped off the chart. This thing is ramping up a massive energy pulse."

"Are we in danger?" Teyla went straight to the point, mentally calculating the distance to the forest in case they needed to evacuate their camp…

"Couldn't tell you. Like I said before, I don't think this is the source of the holograms, but maybe it transfers power periodically to the satellites or something…" He trailed off as the top of the magnificent dome seemed to glow brightly for a brief instant and the sensor in Rodney's hand beeped pitifully, as if giving up on even guessing at the power being displayed.

As the dome's light faded, the alcove guarded by the still present holo-soldiers began to glow and a figure emerged as a black silhouette against the light. Squinting, the Atlantians stood frozen in their spots while the figure walked regally up the steps towards them, the light fading behind it.

With a signal to Ronan and the others, Teyla allowed the old man to approach, for once he neared the flicker of their own campfire, they recognized him as the same who had appeared to them before.

"Oh my God. That's it!" breathed Corrigan softly to Rodney, a startling revelation occurring to him as they watched. "It's a portal. The phrase I couldn't translate on the Ziggurat's panel. It has to mean the 'Portal to Sanctuary.'" Rodney ducked his head towards the anthropologist to indicate he had at least heard him out, but then the stranger was among them, staring serenely about, seeming to catch each of them in turn in a keen gaze. There was a long moment of silence.

Teyla at last spoke with firm command, "Where are our friends?"

The Old man seemed almost amused and took a moment longer to scan the group before turning and courteously replying, "You have been informed that a trial is in progress?"

"You told us yourself."

"Ah, yes. I have been sent to judge the trial should your leaders survive. The time of petition is also closing, and I will oversee its end."

Rodney pushed forward, "Where did you come from?" The question seemed odd to Teyla who like the others assumed this was another holographic character.

"From Sanctuary of course."

"Excellent!" Rodney seemed to exude animated relief. "Then you need to know that we don't want to go there ourselves! This is all a misunderstanding like we tried to explain to your digital double. We really, really just want to go home. To Atlantis. Turn off all your little holographic pets and we'll just leave!"

The old man studied Rodney for a long moment who seemed to grow more self-conscious by the second under the scrutiny. At last he said, "Some who seek are not ready to find. Many have sought the Sanctuary over the eons, but it has been long since the Welcoming Stone arranged a trial. Your people are new to this outpost."

"We're new to this whole damn Galaxy!" Rodney blurted.

"But my people are not." Teyla stepped in. "And yet we have never heard of Sanctuary, nor of this outpost as you call it. I was also scanned by the Welcoming Stone so you know my thoughts as well. You know we mean no harm and wish only to return to the City of the Ancestors." She wasn't exactly sure why she had called Atlantis by the traditional name of her people. Something about the old man felt…ancient. Powerful in a spiritual way, and she had responded with the more formal language of her traditions.

"Your people are known to us," the old man spoke gently, his face warming with a small smile. "You could join your ancestors if you choose, but the Welcoming Stone saw no petition in your thoughts, so you received no invitation. The Time of Petition is still open for a few more hours if you change your mind."

Teyla was unsettled by the stranger's confusing revelation. "If I choose not to make a petition, may I leave?" She felt she needed to explore the boundaries of this unusual place, perhaps find a loophole that could help Sheppard and Weir.

"If you make no personal petition, you link your fate with those you place over you as leaders."

"I want to see them. Can you show me?" Teyla gestured toward the jumper where they had watched their friends race into the forest. This figure was as enigmatic as the previous, although she had picked up Rodney's hint that perhaps this Old Man was in fact someone or something different from the mere image they had seen before. She desperately needed to see that the man she respected above all others, and the woman she had come to admire were still alive and well. In her mind, Rodney's plan was their only real hope for escape and if the strange visitor would not help them, then his only use was to at least show her their progress.

"If you wish, although many find it hard to watch the burdens of others."

"I wish to see them." Teyla repeated with fierce coldness.

"Then you may watch the trial…for a time." The man made no move but narrowing her eyes at him for a moment Teyla decided he would comply and she turned briskly into the now empty jumper. Rodney and Ronan, each with suspicious looks backward over their shoulder followed.

The HUD had come to life again. As if merely displaying a Friday night drama, Sheppard was in view stealthily approaching two alert holo-sentries who were unaware of his presence. Behind the scene, Teyla could just make out a few campfires and tents scattered along a wide riverbank.

* * *

Feeling a surge of exhilaration, Sheppard ran through one final check on his weapons, ammunition, what was left of it, and his pocket of C4. It was time. They had to go now before their reserves ran out and they were so tired they would make mistakes. They both needed sleep. Well, _more_ sleep, he corrected as he poked Elizabeth who had dozed off and was leaning against his shoulder, unfazed by the noise and motion of his actions. 

They had crept close enough to the bridge and sentry post for John to scout the settlement and formulate a plan, such as it was. To his great relief, he had seen another patrol leave across the bridge "downstream" as he watched, reducing the numbers by 2. That was two fewer to get through at least, and he'd decided to wait a good hour for them to move far enough away from here that they couldn't return to help their comrades when he attacked.

Poking again, he watched Elizabeth startle then yawn and try to pretend she hadn't been sleeping. Endearing as she was, he had little thought for small talk and quickly ran her through the plan, assuring himself that she was really awake and alert enough to get herself where she needed to be. He would be too busy to repeat instructions or answer stubborn questions in the thick of it.

Deciding they were ready, he stood, the thrill peaking as he set out to do what he had to do. Elizabeth stood slowly, and when he turned back one last time to wave her off, he paused at her stern, worried expression and arms-crossed determination. Momentarily annoyed, expecting another argument about "treading lightly" and such, he was surprised when she said with all the command she could muster, "Be careful." The words were frightening in their urgency.

Suddenly grinning, he impulsively took two buoyant steps nearer to briskly kiss her forehead, his lips lingering a moment longer than he had intended when he felt her tremble under his touch. Feeling butterflies of a different sort, he backed off abruptly, watching her for a long moment. Finally he just whispered, "Let's go."

The first part of the operation went like clockwork. The two forward sentries went down without ever knowing he had been there. The next two, running to investigate the commotion also went down, and Sheppard made it to the encampment's doorstep before being challenged again. One soldier appeared out of a tent, weapon raised, and John, barely noticing in time, clipped his arm. The last guard who had been frantically scrambling around the campsite, caught unawares, froze when he was suddenly confronted with Sheppard's P-90 inches from his face.

So far so good. Sheppard began to zip tie the last soldier, but thought better of it hearing a moan from the man whose arm he had wounded. Instead, he bound both their legs, and left the one to care for the other as best they could. Rummaging through the camp, he had half a mind to steal some food and more than half a mind to gather some extra firepower. He was disappointed on both points finding so supplies, no water, no food at all. The most promising container he opened contained only blankets and air.

The only weapons he uncovered were the primitive handguns he had seen most of the enemy soldiers carrying or the small-caliber single-round rifles. In disgust, he gathered all he could find and dumped them into the river. They weren't worth their weight to carry, not as long as he had his P-90 and still a clip and a half full of bullets. He had really been hoping to get his hands on one of those automatics they'd shot at him earlier in the day…

Finally finished with his search, and feeling decidedly perplexed by the lack of provisions, he looked to the spot where Elizabeth was to have been. His heart raced until he saw her wave weakly from behind a boulder and smiling more broadly than he should have, he called out, "Go on, get over the bridge and wait somewhere under cover. I'll be there soon!"

Finishing his check of the camp, he paused by the two bound soldiers before stepping onto the span himself, curiosity getting the best of him. "Who are you? Where are the rest of my people?" The enemy soldiers barely responded, looking back at John with eerie blank looks. Unsettled, John decided he hadn't expected an answer anyway, so he went on.

Briefly checking that Elizabeth had made it across, he studied the concrete-like stone structure as he walked. The water rushing by underneath his feet was deep and silent, but he could sense that beneath the gentle surface ripples, there was a powerfully restless current. He leaned over the low railing to understand how the bridge was supported. The middle of the span was the weakest, he decided, and blowing it out would leave a gap from pylon to pylon, at least too wide to jump, hopefully too wide to cross at all. Pleased, he set to work deploying the C4, crouching on one knee as he concentrated.

Then, things began to go wrong. Elizabeth's voice screaming "John, watch out!" jerked him out of his task just as the first bullet whizzed by, sparking on the stone ground nearby. No fewer than 5 more soldiers were approaching the bridge from the encampment, one sporting a bandage around his arm, all holding weapons and firing. Sheppard rolled as more sparks flashed brightly in the dark and returned fire, causing them to scatter for cover at the far end.

He glanced at his line of explosives, quickly calculating. Not enough, he thought. Not enough to be sure the span will fail. Setting his P-90 down, he frantically worked to set out one more charge. When the enemy fire seemed to pick up, he scattered them again with a sloppy sweep. He had the cover of dark working for him, he hoped. "One more second, one more second," he chanted as he finished the wiring.

For an instant he felt relief wash over him. As he rose to dash away and blow the place to kingdom-come from the safety of the other side, a single bullet finally found it's mark, tearing into his exposed side as he was twisting, his feet not quite under him yet, and his vest hitched up by the motion. The surprise and pain threw him down into a kind of clumsy roll. Using the momentum of his fall, he managed to roll on over and back onto his feet, stumbling, catching himself by his hands and standing yet again, hunched against the agony spreading through his belly.

Realizing he had dropped the P-90, and cursing the loss, he drew his 9mil. Finally stable enough to turn and fire he shot a few rounds. The enemy group had begun a determined charge, and he managed to drop the leader, the barrage of return fire driving him further towards the far shore. He had to blow it, he thought. He didn't know if he was far enough yet, but it didn't matter any more. Reaching for the remote detonator, clumsy with shock and fatigue, he finally fumbled it out of its pocket, pressed the button…

A whoosh of sound and a fireball of light shattered the fragile darkness. Sheppard didn't see the remaining soldiers flung back from the blast, having been nearly on top of the charges as they blew. He was too busy slipping and sliding on hands, toes and knees as the stone beneath him groaned and crumbled. Scrambling for every inch, he felt his foot falling, heard the splash of rock into cold water…

Panting, he lay on his chest, and waited for the rest of the bridge to drop out beneath him.

* * *

"Stop it! Stop this!" Rodney was screaming, more furious than he had ever been in his life. Sheppard's team, his friends, watched in horror as the firefight on the bridge and the spectacular explosion that drove him to the edge of the river unfolded. They saw him thrown down as he took fire and in gasping silence urged him along every inch to escape the crumbling chasm opening up under his feet. Teyla was physically restraining Ronan from snapping the neck of the old man, standing just inside the jumper as they watched on the HUD. 

Advancing on the old man himself, Rodney continued to vent his rage, "Who do you think you are? What can this possibly prove to you except some sick sense of superiority?"

The stranger seemed neither concerned by nor afraid of the hostility pouring in on him, but his voice and eyes seemed sympathetic as he replied, "Some who seek are not ready to find Sanctuary. I warned you it is difficult to watch a trial…"

"We. Don't. Want. To find. Your stupid sanctuary!" Rodney was trembling with frustration and fear for his friend. "What kind of hypocrite tests for peace and tranquility with machine guns anyway? If this is what your precious Sanctuary stands for, then I don't think much of it or you!"

"The trial is created from the minds of those who petition the Welcoming Stone. The trial is not only for our benefit, but for yours as well." The man went on as if he didn't expect them to understand, but felt compelled to explain anyway, "Every being has infinite freedom of infinite choice. What you see is not our doing, but their own. We have merely learned to observe and analyze the data..."

Rodney snorted, "Infinite choice. What kind of choice is it to be driven into the wilderness with a hole in your stomach!" He choked out the last as the implications of his words sunk in. Somewhere out there, Sheppard was hurt, dying maybe. "What price is your data worth…how many lives?"

"It is your own price you pay." And with that the stranger walked down the ramp and around the jumper. When Ronan raced past, breaking free of Teyla at last and whipped around the corner, the old man was gone.

* * *

The explosion drove Elizabeth to her knees, hands over her ears, eyes tightly squeezed shut. Still blinking from the flash, she squinted into the dust and debris from where she had been watching the firefight, frantically searching for John, calling loudly and not caring who could hear her. As if a curtain were being pulled away, a cloud of dust blew off, and there he was; lying face down and perfectly still at the very edge of the massive gap in the bridge he had just created. 

Not caring or even thinking about the stability of the bridge, she raced to him and dropped into a crouch close to his head. He was so still, one leg dangling out over empty space. "John, get up. Get away from the edge." Her voice quavered as she spoke. Moving around to his side, as close to the still-crumbling edge as she dared, she tugged gently at his arm, and he finally began to move.

A glimpse of motion out of the corner of her eye drew her gaze to the far side of the river where more soldiers were amassing, preparing to cross their side of the bridge as far as they could go. More insistent, she tugged harder and pleaded, "John, there are more of them, please get up. We have to go." He reached out blindly and she grabbed his arm to heave him upright, and hung on to pull him off the bridge. When they reached the road and the enemy eventually opened fire again, he shrugged off her help and with a reassuringly annoying shove, pushed her in front of him as he had done so many times before.

They jogged on for perhaps another mile, when a gradual change in John's gait drew her full attention to the man behind who had guided her so far through so much. The soft sounds of his footsteps were becoming uneven shuffling scuffs of sole against stone. Listening more closely, she heard instead of steady controlled breathing, soft shallow panting interrupted now and then by a gasping hitch. Stark fear shivered through her like an ice cube dripping down her back and she slowed down to let him draw even with her. Still half expecting him to shove her on faster again, she was shocked to instead see him holding his arm unnaturally close to his side, his face obviously pale and sweaty even in the dim starlight.

"We need to find shelter, and rest for the night," he said, achieving most of his usual commanding tone. He was either trying to hide something from her, or he was genuinely focused on their surroundings, because he wouldn't meet her eyes as he went on, "I remember more rocky terrain on this side of the river. We should leave the road and just walk a bit 'til we find a place like last night…" His voice trailed off and he changed direction towards the deep forest.

"John?" she stopped altogether, managing to pack worried concern and a knowing command into the single syllable.

Sighing, he turned back, quirked a half-grin and clearly trying to deflect the worry replied lightly, "I took some fire. I'll patch it up when we stop."

"You're injured?" despite his attempt, her apprehension was growing and her gaze kept drifting to the arm pressed into his abdomen.

"Yeah, that's what I mean by 'I took some fire.'" His voice was soft with weary resignation and an amusement she didn't understand. With Elizabeth watching him warily, he led her into the dark forest and true to his memory, they soon found a jagged hill of jutting rock and boulders. Once Elizabeth found and cleared out a shelter, she took over and pushed a grumbling John down into the soft earth and pine needles to lean against the rock. He lay back panting, looking thoroughly disgusted by the fussing and only grudgingly accepted the canteen of water she forced into his hands.

Holding her flashlight in her mouth, she next rummaged through her pockets and pulled out every medical item she could find. She was pleased by the surprisingly thorough first-aid kit that emerged, and finally asked, "Where were you hurt?" even as she was reaching for the zipper on his vest.

"Took a bullet on the bridge. Left side," was all he would say, beginning to close his eyes against a pain that seemed to be growing quickly, evident in the furrow of his brow and tension in his shoulders. Clearly the adrenaline of the firefight and their flight from the bridge was wearing off, and John was beginning to feel the full effect of his wound. Wounds, she corrected, also making a note to examine the trickle of dried blood she saw trailing just under his hairline.

Finished with the vest, she unzipped his jacket and pulled it apart to reveal a sticky wet spot just below his ribcage. It was lucky his shirt was black, she thought, swallowing hard. And that it was dark. All that blood…

Readying some gauze, she peeled the shirt away, pushing it further up his chest and wiped around the small but oozing wound. Just one she noticed… no exit wound. He grunted softly at the touch, but clenching his hands tightly he made no other sound or sudden movement. Next she could only shake out a pressure bandage and press the absorbent pad firmly against his side, praying it would stop the bleeding. She knew the force had to be excruciating on his damaged insides, but still John stayed silent.

Unable to bear his rigid suffering, she offered, her own voice choking, "There's morphine in the first aid kit… let me give you…"

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "It makes me loopy. I need to stay alert."

"John Sheppard, you are loopy 24/7," she whispered, falling into her habit of teasing him when he was being stubborn. She was glad for the faint smile the jibe brought to his lips. "And in this matter I outrank you," she added, jabbing the single-use field dose into his shoulder.

He frowned, feeling the prick, then already weak from exhaustion and blood loss, he relaxed and sagged slowly to one side as the narcotic pushed him into unconsciousness. Elizabeth caught his head and gently lowered it to the ground, desperately hoping she was doing the right thing. She brushed her fingers lightly through the stray strands of dark hair along his forehead, feeling for the source of the blood along his temple. When she found the small insignificant lump of fresh scab she was relieved, and her fingers lingered on his face a moment longer as she whispered, "Rest, John. We'll go home tomorrow…"

As she turned back to check and continue pressure on his side if needed, she paused a moment to pick up a fresh pad of gauze from her hastily dumped pile of supplies. Freezing as she reached out, she suddenly found herself fiercely dashing away hot tears. The 9 mil sat carefully positioned next to the bandages. 


	8. Chapter 8

Elizabeth sat vigil over John's sleeping or unconscious form through their second night on the planet. Once she was satisfied the abdominal wound was no longer bleeding, she shook out a fresh pressure bandage and after cleaning away the dried mess from his skin as best she could with alcohol wipes, she tied it around John's waist to cover the first and keep them both in place.

Restless, she frequently found herself checking his pulse, feeling his forehead, or idly tending to his other minor injuries. Well past midnight, around the time she expected the field dose of morphine to be wearing off, John groaned softly once, then stoic even in his dreams, he clamped his jaw and slept on, shivering slightly. The shiver brought Elizabeth's hand to his forehead yet again, this time feeling a slight warmth under her gentle touch. Pulling out the thin thermal sheet from yet another vest pocket she wrapped it over and tucked it under the wounded soldier and scootched up close to provide what heat she could as she sat and watched.

Finally, in the cold quiet time just before dawn, she gently moved John's head into her lap, resting her hand on his neck where she could feel his pulse and occasionally brushing her fingers through the stiff bristles of blood and sweat soaked hair. It was a bit of a liberty she admitted, he would undoubtedly be embarrassed by the intimacy, but she found herself in desperate need of the comfort...of the need to offer comfort.

In an exhausted stupor, she found herself staring at the gun. She couldn't decide what to do in the morning. John had said it would only be another 4 or 5 hours from the bridge to the Stargate. But could he make it that far? Should she leave him in the shelter and try to make it herself then come back with help? The thought of traveling without him terrified her, then left her frustrated by the self-imagined weakness. Dwelling on how much he had gotten her through, missiles on the plain, the desperate cat-and-mouse in the forest, the bridge… she began to experience a slow bubbling swell of hatred for those who had done this to them. To him. She stroked his hair again.

She was still alive because he had kept her alive. His unassuming competence made it easy for her to trust him completely, despite the stubborn part of her that wished she were more in control. She would have to continue to trust him. He would make the call in the morning on his own behalf.

As she finally drifted to sleep, arm still crooked protectively around his shoulders, she couldn't help but fear that her trust would cost him his life…

* * *

"Jumper 2, this is Lorne. On your way back to the city, stop by the mainland and pick up Recon 2. They'll be with the Athosians."

"Sir?" the commander of the newly dubbed Recon 1, still hours out from Atlantis seemed perpetually confused. Then again, it was a singularly confusing situation.

"The damn planet dumped them back on the mainland. Took them 4 hours to get close enough to the settlement to radio in by relay."

Lorne had sent one more team on foot through the gate before the last window closed. They had disappeared as quickly and suddenly as the jumper had and Lorne had spent an agonizing 4 hours certain he had ordered the brave men to their deaths.

Once the relief faded at hearing they'd only been transported somehow to the mainland, he'd optimistically ordered more jumpers to search in hopes that maybe Sheppard and the rest were also wandering around in their own back yard. Somehow he didn't think so. He'd been with his CO on field hikes, and the man could cover ground. Sheppard would have made contact by now from the mainland if he'd been dropped anywhere on it. But Lorne was grasping at straws and would try anything at this point.

Sitting quietly in Weir's office for a few minutes, listening to the murmur of the city around him, he came to the conclusion that their only hope to find their missing people might be to send a ship. And that meant flying the Orion, still only partially in service as the eager Atlantis scientists half repaired, half tore it apart in their studies of the Ancient ship. They were getting low on Senior command, but Lorne thought he could leave the city in Zelenka's care for what he hoped would be a short rescue mission. He would command the Orion, hyperdrive jump to Sheppard's planet and find out what was going on.

Not unexpectedly Zelenka was unhappy with the Major's decisions on the matter, growing more excitable as it became clear he would be left in charge for an indeterminate amount of time. Bobbing nervously on the other side of Weir/Lorne's desk he babbled on for a while about orbits and windows and inter-galactic transportation, blah blah blah.

Only half listening, decided on his course, Lorne did at least take a step back to ask the worked up scientist about the remaining open windows.

"Have you figured out a schedule yet?"

"They seem to be random from a stellar point of view, but they're actually progressing mathematically. The next window by that calculation should open in 4 hours, and remain open for 2 hours. Those last two hours at least happen to coincide with our original schedule. The problem for Sheppard and Rodney is that the next window will not open for another 8 hours, rather than only 6. And that last window will only open for one hour before closing permanently…"

Lorne thought for a moment, calculating the time and effort it would take to prep the Orion, evaluating the risk associated with approaching a planet that apparently had the power to transport people across the galaxy, and weighing all that against the lives of the people, his commanders and friends, who needed his help. "We'll give Sheppard and Weir 6 more hours, to the end of the next window. Then I'm going for them on the Orion."

* * *

"John. Wake up. We need to go home now. Come on, John. You can do it. Wake up…"

The steady nagging voice and his gently shaking shoulder pulled Sheppard out of the deep unaware of unconsciousness into gray cotton-filled confusion. He was sleeping so nicely, he just wanted to drift off again.

"Don't make me splash a bucket of water on you, soldier. Get up…"

The persistent words wouldn't let him go, and he rose another step into wakefulness. Enough to hear a racket of morning birds and realize that it was Elizabeth's voice depriving him of the bliss he sought. _Bitch_, he thought. Can't she see I'm asleep! Leave me alone already.

This time the voice snorted with amusement, retorting with mock severity, "Watch your language, Lt. Colonel John Sheppard. Now get your ass up."

Either the tone or the words themselves finally did the trick and John blinked his eyes open to see Elizabeth kneeling next to him, watching closely. She looked shockingly tired, even to John as he was just waking, but her eyes were twinkling with humor, and he supposed, relief that he'd finally arrived in the land of the conscious. Sort of.

He rolled off his shoulder onto his back yawning, then automatically tried to sit up. _Bad idea, John_, he thought as white fire lanced through his gut, doubling him over on his side again to bury his face in the dirt. A low moan escaped his throat despite his tightly clenched jaw.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth whispered, and he felt her touch his shoulder in sympathy. He lay for a long moment trying to master the pain, resting for another long while once it faded enough to relax his rigid body. John hated…_hated_…being incapacitated. He could push through the worst of mere pain with a boyish grin and a snide remark, but when something slowed him down physically he got obnoxiously grumpy. Always had been that way. He'd once skied a 2 hour black diamond run with a broken collarbone after a nasty spill at the top, no problem. But when he'd been grounded with viral meningitis and a 104 fever at the tender age of 20, the nurse at the base infirmary had kicked him out to brood in his own room. His roommate had lasted an hour before mysteriously going AWOL and spending the rest of the illness somewhere else.

Finally with a sigh, and a bit more caution, he used his hands instead of his middle to push himself up to sit against the stone wall of their shelter. He managed with only a wince, and was grateful to see that Elizabeth had stopped hovering over him to pack up her pile of supplies and neatly tuck them back into the pockets. Fishing in his own first-aid pocket for Tylenol and opening the canteen that was set close by (Elizabeth's doing) he idly made a mental note to repack her vest when they got home. She was putting stuff away all wrong. Grumpy.

She looked over and raised a skeptical eyebrow as he threw back the pills and took a gulp of the water. "It doesn't have to work," he told her, acknowledging how ludicrous it must seem to think a couple of Tylenol could help against the raging agony in his belly. "I just have to _think_ it will…"

"Want something to eat?"

He considered for a moment, then as his stomach lurched a bit at the thought, he replied ruefully, "No."

He was lucky, sort of, that one of the small-caliber weapons had hit him. Had a bullet from the larger more powerful automatics found its mark, he would have bled out before reaching the other side of the bridge. As it was, the 22-like slug while less likely to blow a gaping hole had probably bounced around a bit before lodging God knows where. He was sure his insides were doing a lovely Swiss-cheese impression. It would take a lot longer to bleed out instead, slowly from the inside… He just hoped he would have the time to get to the Stargate before he did. To get Elizabeth to the Stargate, he amended.

His own survival was looking somewhat optional, he realized with the distance of professional observation firmly in place. He knew that walking to the gate was potentially making the choice between living and….not. If he laid here quietly waiting for help, he could probably last another day, even two. But he didn't have that choice. Help wasn't coming and she was still his responsibility. He would go with her, foul though his company may be, whatever the cost.

Checking the excellent bandage Elizabeth had tied around him, he was glad to see that the external bleeding had stopped at least and feeling a twinge of guilt in advance for his wretched attitude, he noticed that she had also cleaned him up and tended to his other wounds. Least she could do, he snarked to himself, after slipping me the mickey like that.

He was still grumbling privately as he automatically performed his habitual weapons check. The P-90 was gone. The 9mil and one spare clip in Elizabeth's vest was pretty much all that was left. The low ordinance did nothing to improve his mood. So when Elizabeth turned back to him and asked, "How are you feeling?" as briskly as she could manage, he snapped, "Like someone's been using my guts for target practice and all I've got to fire back with is a damn pea shooter." He tossed the 9 mil aside in disgust.

She narrowed her eyes and looked him steadily in the face until he squirmed a bit. He couldn't stand the sympathy and worry in her haggard expression. Deep down he knew he lashed out to push that look away, that if he pissed people off they'd be too mad to feel sorry for him. But instead of angry or embarrassed, Elizabeth just looked haunted, like she was about to deliver a death sentence. "John. I need to know what to do next. I need to know if you can make it to the gate, or if I need to get there myself and bring back help."

"I can make it to the gate. We'll go together." He answered quickly, willing to say anything to wipe the melancholy off her face and wondering if she had guessed his thoughts. She just nodded and, finished with her packing, stepped close to offer him a hand up. Looking warily at the hand, he took a deep breath and a moment to work up his courage before he reached out and heaved himself standing. He grunted with the renewed stabs of pain, and found Elizabeth's shoulder offered for him to lean on while he steadied his balance and waited for the head rush to pass. Blood pressure's definitely low, he thought without voicing the observation.

She was watching him for a signal and he finally nodded and took a couple of fairly confident steps out of the shelter. Encouraged by the fact that he had not fallen over or passed out again, he looked around to get his bearings and began the trek back to the road, Elizabeth tagging along behind. Finally managing to push the pain aside with sheer will and a fanatical faith in Tylenol, he was soon walking at near their usual pace, an arm tucked into his side the only indicator that anything was amiss.

"You doing OK?" Elizabeth asked after they had found the road, quiet and empty for the moment.

"Yeah, I'm good." He replied with all the truth of self-denial. "I'll be fine." His hearty smile faded as he caught her sober expression just before she answered as heartily as he had.

"Good to hear."

It was then that he understood. She knew. Knew that he was injured more severely than he was letting on and it still didn't matter. That he had to try for the gate because she wouldn't make it without him. That no matter how hard she might argue against it he would still choose to go with her.

And that doing so might just kill him.

* * *

It had been a horrible night. One of the worst Rodney could ever remember. Worse than the night he spent building a nuclear bomb during the siege. Worse than… well OK, not worse than the hours he spent in freezing water in the jumper. That was still probably the worst "worse" he could think of. Definitely worse than even the night he had spent as a guest of Ford's hopped up fanatical friends, though. Of course, he was pretty hopped up himself at the time, so it might have been worse if he'd felt worse…

Shaking himself, Rodney tried again to concentrate on the tiny wiring he was trying to connect with the wrong tool while twisted almost upside down inside the guts of the jumper.

Actually, it kind of felt like the night they had sat in the cafeteria together waiting for John to die of the Iratus retro-virus. Rodney couldn't get the image of Sheppard being thrown down by an enemy bullet out of his mind, waking or sleeping…what little of that he'd accidentally managed. Knowing Sheppard's resilience, it wasn't even so much that he was worried for the Colonel's life, at least not yet. It was that they hadn't been able to help, that they were again just waiting around for the end, whatever it would be, frustratingly delayed again and again by the stupid jumper and the stupid old man and…

Click.

Rodney froze at the tiny insignificant sound.

"Yes! YES! YES!" he yelled triumphantly, grabbing at the drone tantalizingly within reach to see it finally pull free of its latch within the firing mechanism. "I got it, I got it!" Squirming madly he hoisted himself back into the jumper proper and held the rubbery, squid-like weapon aloft to the beaming faces of his teammates.

"Excellent, Rodney." Teyla's voice was hoarse with fatigue, but everyone felt a sudden renewal of energy as something finally went right.

In a mindless huddle, everyone followed McKay out of the jumper to stand around and watch as he immediately propped the drone onto a supply box and began dragging his tablet computer over to begin hooking into it. It was still dark, but only just. Dawn was around the corner if the noisy birds in the distant forest were any indicator. In the meantime, Rodney settled for the light spilling out of the jumper's back hatch and his flashlight between his teeth.

He was so immersed in the prospect of taking the next step in his plan that it was several minutes before he looked up and jumped at the group silently watching him. "What are you doing! Go on…put the jumper back together people! We don't have all day, we've already spent all night!" And with that he was back to the drone.

The group's happy enthusiasm rapidly turned into mutinous grumbling until Teyla, managing to master her own annoyance, was able to give them an encouraging smile. "Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard need our help, and our persistence," she reminded them of the purpose of their efforts. "I know we are all tired, but time is of the essence. Let's get to work." And she hustled her crew back into the jumper.

Everyone but Ronan who remained standing, balefully staring as Rodney worked.

"What?" McKay finally snapped feeling the large man's gaze bore into the back of his head.

"You said this thing will destroy the satellites that project the holograms?" Ronan had an amazing way of turning simple statements into probing questions.

"Yes," replied Rodney rolling his eyes as though the question were too obvious to answer, then in fairness, feeling the limitations of his progress he went on, "well, at least one satellite, since we only managed to get to one drone, but hopefully they're networked so even disabling one will interfere with their broadcast capabilities."

Ronan waited a few moments before speaking again. "We made an orbital survey the first time we came here…"

"And we saw no satellites, I _know_. My guess is they weren't powered up, just like the Ziggurat wasn't generating any power before either, so unless we just happened to bump into one, a very unlikely possibility, they'd be nearly impossible to see...they'd just look like debris or meteors to the sensors."

Another pause then, "We don't have a launcher."

Completely exasperated, Rodney stopped working altogether to wave his arms at Ronan, "Which is _why_ I'm sitting here trying to interface with the drone directly. To launch it from here. I've done it before… in that other Atlantis, the one buried underground." His expression then turned thoughtful, "of course that time, the drone didn't have to automatically seek a target…and there was an Ancient interface handy…and…"

"What's to keep the satellite from creating a holographic counter measure and blow our drone up before it damages anything?"

This one left Rodney completely stumped. He hadn't thought of that yet. Flushing a deep purple and opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally sputtering "Well… I suppose…"

"Never mind." Ronan stalked off to the jumper to help Teyla, leaving a thoroughly flustered and annoyed McKay to work on the drone alone. 


	9. Chapter 9

These last 10 miles were the most difficult they had traveled so far. Elizabeth was so tired, she could imagine laying in the middle of the road and sleeping for a week. But every time she looked over at John, at what he must be going through, her resolve strengthened as did her determination to get him home….alive…too.

She understood, finally, what drove him onward and the realization was almost unbearable. _She_ was his mission, and he would go to any lengths to make sure she got home; to make sure he completed the mission. The thought terrified her. She knew what he would sacrifice in the line of duty. She had seen his resolve on the stairs to a doomed jumper during the siege of Atlantis.

Unlike the day before when they had been able to walk comfortably for several hours at a time between patrols and sentry posts, today was a constant cat-and-mouse game of avoidance and the gratefully rare firefight. Most likely because they had disrupted the patrol routine by shutting down the bridge, there was a steady trickle of enemy soldiers on the road, walking in twos and threes from both directions. So they stayed in the forest just off the road most of the time, only venturing out onto it when it was the easiest way to cross a stream or the occasional dry gulch.

It was on one such crossing that they were spotted by a patrol coming towards them. The two startled enemy soldiers managed to fire a couple rounds harmlessly into the landscape, only to be cut down moments later by the steady, sure return fire from Sheppard's 9 mil. From the place he had shoved her, behind and back to back with John as he fired, Elizabeth thought she heard him counting, very softly to himself, "one, two…three, four, five."

She averted her eyes as she walked past the two dead men, but several steps later realized John had stopped to rummage at the bodies. Turning back with a hard swallow, she watched him pick up and study the two enemy handguns he had collected. His interest quickly turned to annoyance as the weapons refused to open, and in fact, refused to function in any way at all. After spending another minute or two wrestling with the things, in disgust he aimed one into the forest and pulled the trigger several times. It didn't even click.

Frustrated, he threw the useless chunk of metal far into the trees, too angry to even grunt at the stabs of pain the violent motion caused through his body, although Elizabeth saw him clutch his side tightly with his elbow thereafter. Seeing the anger shadowed with concern still smoldering in his eyes, she said nothing as he pushed roughly past her to continue again down the road, her own fear nagging at her. If _he_ was that worried about their weapons situation…

An hour later, they lay in a leafy bush watching no fewer than 5 soldiers march past, only their feet visible from Elizabeth's point of view wedged between John's shoulder and the main trunk of the vegetation they were borrowing. Listening for a long while after the clatter of their footsteps had faded into the distance, she finally looked at John, expecting a signal soon to scramble out and continue on. He was laying on his stomach as she was, his forehead slumped nearly to the ground, eyes tightly closed as he struggled with a wave of renewed pain exacerbated by the position and the break from the steady numbness of walking. In surprised fear she grabbed his shoulder and choked out a questioning, "John?"

He growled an agonized "Arrrgh," of frustration and pushed back to sit on his heels, wrapping both arms around his middle and taking deep breaths, looking thoroughly pissed off.

"Do you… do you want some more Tylenol?" She felt ridiculous for suggesting it, but he smiled, then chuckled, then actually laughed out loud at the absurdity. Elizabeth was unable to restrain a small smile herself at his reaction. Shaking his head, he held out a hand and allowed her to help him up.

Not long after, more than three hours into the grueling journey, the road seemed less guarded as they encountered fewer and fewer patrols of any size. While Elizabeth welcomed the relief from the constant delays, Sheppard seemed to grow more worried by the lack of resistance. Elizabeth found herself watching him closely while trying not to let him notice she was.

His face was flushed and clammy with sweat that had nothing to do with the warm climate. His rapid breathing sounded strained and he leaned more and more into a hunched shuffle, so contrary to his usual graceful prowl. When he stumbled on a tree root as they shadowed the road, Elizabeth steadied him with an unobtrusive hand on his elbow.

She became worried to the point of panic by the way he seemed to be turning inward, looking through her and the world they were walking in, beginning to slip fully into the haze of his own pain-filled inner journey. In desperation, she began to ask him stupid questions, just to try to keep him grounded somewhat in the here and now.

"What's your favorite airplane?" He managed a patronizing snort at her obvious ignorance of the superiority of helicopters. "What's your favorite helicopter?" Once she had him she wasn't going to let go. "Why's it hard to fly a helicopter in the Antarctic?"

He would answer, sometimes in monosyllables, sometimes after a long pause, as if having to travel a long way to find the words. Exhausting all she could think of to ask about flying, she cast around in her mind for something else to talk about. "Have you finished your book?"

"What?" he seemed confused by the change in topic, but she was relieved to hear him responding more quickly.

"_War and Peace_, have you finished it yet?"

"Um, yeah I finished."

"You read the whole thing!" She was impressed, he didn't really seem the literary type.

He wagged his head a bit before clarifying, "I said I was _finished_. I didn't say I read it all." He managed a grin in her direction at the admission.

"I see," and she was also grinning. They walked along for a moment, Elizabeth remembering her own studies of the book and Tolstoy's interesting theories on historical observation and free will.

"I think he's right," John added softly and it was Elizabeth's turn to be mildly confused.

"Mmm?" she questioned

"Tolstoy. I think we _are_ all caught up in some kind of cosmic law of inevitability. That everything we do is a result of what we and everyone else has done before. That we couldn't do something different if we wanted to…"

Elizabeth looked at him in amazement. "You read the Epilogues, then?"

"Yes."

She watched him for a long time, following in each of his agonizing steps towards an uncertain end. She had _hated_ Tolstoy's proposal of the limitations of free will as a young ideologue. It went against everything her change-the-world-for-the-better attitude stood for. To her, free will was the pinnacle of justice in the universe and to suggest that instead she was dependent on a set of historical laws defining all social movement was tantamount to Heresy.

But now she had to wonder. What had been her choices over the last two days? If she could sit back and evaluate every decision, would she have done anything differently, _could_ she have? In a fog of exhaustion, she couldn't think of _any_ decisions at all, she and John just seemed to have been driven relentlessly from moment to moment, ever since the stone obelisk took it upon itself to invade their personal histories. Or did it only _seem_ like they had no choices because they were conditioned by their past experiences to respond automatically, not even recognizing the options that were before them. She stubbornly refused to believe that.

And then there was John. Born and raised to do what he did, trained to react in a certain way to threats, determined to protect her and complete the mission. What were _his_ choices? Could he be anything but who he was? Had his _choices_ in Afghanistan resulted in his exile-like posting in the Antarctic, or had a lifetime of external expectation and ultimate disappointment driven him there despite himself? She could see how he would think so.

However he got there, there wasn't a day she wasn't grateful that free will, fate or even some cosmic law of inevitability had set him in her path. Overwhelmed by her gratitude for his presence, she blinked backed sudden tears, a second later having to grab for John's arm as he stumbled again. This time she drew closer and held on. He didn't shrug off the touch.

They walked like that, arm in arm, for an eternity. When John finally stopped and Elizabeth pulled herself out of her own reverie to look around, she saw him staring at two massive stone pillars, placed opposite each other on the widening ancient roadway. They had reached the final corridor to the Stargate meadow.

"We have an hour before our window closes." John spoke in a low quiet voice. "Let's go."

* * *

"Sergeant?" 

Lorne snapped at the communications tech who jumped and replied hastily, "No radio contact sir, nothing on the MALP video…"

"Shut it down then. And get me the Orion."

"Yes sir."

Once the onboard crew of the Orion responded with satisfying alacrity, Major Lorne checked his watch again and gave a citywide "All Aboard" command for everyone who would be joining him on the Ancient ship.

Calling over his shoulder to Zelenka and settling himself at the rail overseeing the Stargate he said, "We leave in an hour." He didn't plan to move from that spot until he boarded the Orion. "Come on, sir!" he muttered to himself. "You've got an hour before the damn gate closes for good. You can make it…"

* * *

"RODNEY!" Teyla's voice was uncharacteristically shrill as the stress of the morning turned into a frantic free-for-all of activity, trying desperately to get the jumper reassembled and the drone ready for launch before yet another window of opportunity closed, trapping them on the planet even longer. And it would take at least 20 minutes, pushing it, to fly back to the gate itself. 

"I'm coming!" McKay sighed wearily, connecting one last conduit before shuffling out the rear hatch of the jumper and calling over his shoulder to Jones and Corrigan behind him, "Bolt that last piece of bulkhead back in place and she'll be able to fly. Not that we'll have anywhere to sit while we do…" he grumbled the last to himself, mostly just frustrated by their progress or lack thereof.

Rubbing his face tiredly he stretched and was startled upon finally opening his eyes to the scene outside. Teyla, Walker, and Ronan were standing warily in battle-ready positions, weapons armed, deployed in a protective semi-circle around the drone. Confused, he eventually noticed the object of their concern. Or objects as the case may be. Squads of drone soldiers were appearing around them, restlessly silent but watching every move the Atlantians made.

"You have to launch it now," Teyla commanded. "They intend to stop us!"

Startled into stark fear, he just nodded and rushed to the drone, checking one last time and finishing the last bit of programming he had to do.

The restless holograms began to edge closer and an unnerved Walker snapped his weapon to a pre-firing position just as Rodney yelled "DON'T SHOOT!" Shifting nervously in his spot, Walker complied but threw a disgusted, fear-filled look at McKay who went on just as loudly, "Remember what the old man said. We choose our own infinity…or something. If we draw their fire, we're sitting ducks and _this_ pathetic excuse of a rocket launcher won't take any hits. Hold them back, hand-to-hand if you must, but DO NOT SHOOT! Is everyone else in the jumper?"

Teyla and Ronan exchanged nervous looks and lowered their own firearms to move into smooth hand-to-hand combat stances, Walker following suit after a stern command from Teyla. The tense standoff continued as Rodney frantically worked, sweat pouring into his eyes to be blinked away, so intense was his concentration he wouldn't take the time to mop his brow.

He wasn't sure how the battle began, but suddenly the sounds of scuffling and grunting and fists hitting flesh was all around him as Teyla, Ronan and Walker held back the holograms with brute force. The three warriors seemed almost gleeful at the chance to vent their long restrained frustration, throwing back the advancing soldiers with violent abandon. Rodney held his breath but the enemy did not open fire, yet more and more appeared around them. They would soon be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

Teyla missed a block and was spun back by the force of a fist hitting her jaw, the lucky soldier smashed to the ground a second later by a vicious blow from Ronan's elbow. "Rodney!" she gasped, blinking away the stars and turning again into the next enemy who was trying to push past. Walker hit the ground, stunned for only a moment, then with a fierce kick managed to trip his soldier and incapacitate him at the same time. He also staggered up to continue the fight.

"One more second, one more second," McKay chanted under his breath as the circle closed in around him…

* * *

Sheppard took one more second to gather himself for the final push. Forcing the deadly ache in his belly to a far corner of his mind, he willed his shaking body into submission and blinked to clear the fog that was creeping into the corners of his vision. He knew he was in deep trouble, could feel his heart racing and unacknowledged pain spreading into his chest and shoulders. But he also knew he could make it to the gate… even if no further than it's shimmering boundary. He had to. 

For the moment in complete control, he shrugged off Elizabeth's arm and signaling quietly, he turned away from the road into deeper forest. As he walked, he spoke quietly to Elizabeth, instructing her in their next steps…"We'll approach the Stargate from the tree line rather than the road. We'll circle until we can get as close as possible. I'll take out as many as I can, hopefully pick up some _working_ ordinance on the way. YOU," and he paused for a brief moment to fix her with a penetrating stare, "get to the DHD on my signal, send your IDC and get your ass through."

"I won't leave you John," she spoke with matter-of-fact stubbornness.

"You'll do as I tell you, _when_ I tell you." He advanced on her and she quailed at the fury in his voice. She looked away from his fierce glare and he accepted that as acquiescence.

It was only a short time before the trees to their immediate right seemed to thin out and bright noon sunshine filled the forest floor. The meadow was near and John's steps grew stealthily quiet. Elizabeth followed suit as he knew she would. When he thought he had reached the spot he wanted, they crouched and creeped the rest of the way to the very edge of the clearing.

It was deathly silent and profoundly empty.

With almost comic timing, they turned to each other with raised eyebrows and confused expressions. The Stargate sat peacefully majestic amid the tall grass and bright meadow flowers, the road they had followed for two days ending pitifully in crumbling nonexistence well before reaching the destination it sought.

Elizabeth began to grin but Sheppard shook his head, every sense on alert, every intuition telling him that this was wrong. "I don't like it," he whispered hoarsely. "Something's not right here." He was sorry to wipe the hope from her expression but he was edgy, nervous.

They waited for several more minutes until it was clearly Elizabeth who was becoming edgy, "John, the window is closing. We should go, we should try for the gate." Chewing his lip in indecision, he still hesitated, shifting to relieve the pressure off his middle in the uncomfortable position. It was, ultimately, the pain that moved him on…he didn't know how much longer he could stay in control of it.

Standing close together, they rose quietly and took a first few hesitant steps towards the gate. When nothing happened, they exchanged perplexed shrugs and John took a slow lead, his weapon at shoulder height, ready to fire. Elizabeth followed, touching the hem of his vest for the mere comfort of it. When they reached the DHD, the way home so tantalizingly close, he hesitated again making a long 360 degree sweep before telling her, "Go ahead, dial it up…" She eagerly dashed around him to punch in the address. Sheppard continued to circle, then…

"There you are," his voice was unsurprised and weary.

A quartet of soldiers appeared, rising out of the meadow like phantoms. John pulled the trigger with rhythmic accuracy and a few rounds of return fire kicked up dust at his toes. He neither flinched nor paused in his firing, "Keep dialing!" he shouted noticing that Elizabeth had frozen at the sudden barrage of sound and she jumped to continue. "10, 11, 12…13, 14, 15…" he whispered his lips barely moving with the count.

As the last hapless soldier fell to the ground, he ejected the spent cartridge to the ground and with a smooth practiced motion loaded the spare. He allowed a brief moment for pride, it was difficult to take out so many in 15 shots at that distance with a…pea shooter.

Elizabeth shouted with triumph at the heartbreakingly familiar splash of the Stargate making a connection. "It worked! Let's go! Let's go home!"

She was already moving towards the mesmerizing blue flicker as Sheppard bellowed, "IDC first Elizabeth."

She paused only a second to pull out the small device she had carefully arranged within easy reach, punched the short code and set her thumb against the authentication device. Then she was moving again, Sheppard close on her heels but still sweeping the meadow with restless unease. A flicker of motion, or glint of unnatural light drew his eye to the West and he spun to confront the aberration.

With the clarity of battle-trained awareness, John saw the sniper rise above a clump of yellow dandelions and sight carefully through his weapon's scope…at Elizabeth who was jogging happily toward the gate, unaware of the danger at hand.

He lived a lifetime in the next moment. He carefully planned the only shot he would get even as he was lunging at Elizabeth to grab her from behind and spin her away, pulling her shoulders into his chest and wrapping himself around her in an awkward embrace. He flung his weapon out for the difficult slightly-behind-his-back shot and fired.

The sniper's rifle and his own round sounded almost simultaneously.

He breathed a long deep sigh of relief, certain he had hit his target, then gently crumpled to the ground, bearing Elizabeth down with him. He was surprised by the regret, he thought. There was a time, in his wild youth when he thought he couldn't die. Then not so very long ago, after disgrace in Afghanistan and alienation from the only family he had left, he'd not really cared if he did or not. But he had found himself on Atlantis. Elizabeth had found him.

"Get to the gate…" he whispered, and knew no more. 


	10. Chapter 10

"Incoming wormhole!" The gate tech fairly shouted the words and Lorne was so surprised, he almost didn't believe what he was hearing. The Major had recalled all other offworld teams so Zelenka would have only the city to worry about once Lorne left on the Orion. There was only one team out… Sheppard!

The whole room fairly buzzed with anticipation as the glowing chevrons lit one by one, culminating in the familiar splash of activation and the hum of the shield going up. The moments following were filled with hushed whispers in which the word "IDC?" kept popping out above the murmur.

"IDC coming in… It's Dr. Weir!" The room exploded with cheers and applause and Lorne had to bellow over the commotion, "LOWER THE SHIELD, GET A MEDICAL TEAM DOWN HERE!" For a team as long overdue as theirs, it was a natural precaution, but the order was sobering. Long moments passed and the happy chatter faded back into worried whispering. "Sir, the MALP's out. We're not getting any telemetry of any kind from it…"

Lorne jogged down the stairs. No one came through the gate. So they waited.

* * *

"MCKAY!" Three voices bellowed as one and Rodney hit the screen on his computer an instant later. 

The quick swoosh of the drone launching itself into the midday sky, leaving a thin trail of white smoke was almost anti-climatic, he thought. The battle around him continued to rage and still his eyes tracked the speck, growing smaller and smaller until it simply disappeared. Holding his breath he waited a bit longer until…

Wham!

A flying body, friend or foe he couldn't tell, landed in the middle of the pile of wires and boxes he'd been programming the drone on, tumbling the makeshift table onto its side and scattering equipment everywhere.

Shouting, "It's gone, get back to the jumper!" he grabbed for his tablet, some things were sacred after all, and seeing that his teammates were trying to comply, he made a dash for the ship. Only moments later all 4 were leaping through the rear hatch, and Corrigan was hastily slamming at the control to bring the ramp up and secure the door. Rodney continued directly to the cockpit where Jones was at the pilot's seat.

Looking skyward through the windshield and mentally counting out the seconds, he thought he might have seen a tiny insignificant flash just before Jones shouted with unreserved enthusiasm. "We're back online! Everything's working!"

"Go!" Rodney shouted and sat in the co-pilot seat. "Get to the gate."

"Did it disable the holograms!" Teyla's tired voice called from the back, still focused more on the help she could provide to their friends than her own safety.

Rodney looked out at the plain, but there had been no holograms there to start with so he couldn't tell if any had disappeared. "I don't know…"

With satisfying swiftness, the jumper leaped from the ground and pelted over the grasses, gaining altitude as Jones guided it directly to the gate, not bothering to follow the road's winding roundabout path. A supreme silence fell over the group as they willed their luck to last. Rodney powered up the life signs detector, in the hopes of spotting Sheppard and Weir as they raced to the gate.

Jones took the jumper a bit higher to clear the giant gentle hill bordering the plains when a bright white light filled the whole interior and the air seemed to shimmer for a second. Rodney blinked and instead of green forest terrain flashing beneath them, the cockpit window showed nothing but velvety black space.

"Sir?" Jones' voice was almost resigned, as if he should have expected such an odd development.

"We're in space!" Rodney resorted to stating the obvious, a painful indicator of just how badly he was confused. They were soon joined by Teyla, looking very disheveled, and several of the others. Everyone just stared. Eventually, the gently tumbling starscape brightened and a glowing blue marble of a planet swept across the window's panoramic view.

"That looks like…" It was so impossible that Rodney couldn't even finish the sentence.

"Home," said Teyla.

* * *

She was almost home! They were almost home! Elizabeth jogged to the gate, unaware of anything but the beautiful blue circle before her, consumed with thoughts of home, a warm bath and a two-day nap. It was a complete surprise when she felt herself being jerked back and crushed into John's sheltering embrace. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sharp report of weapon fire and heard John's final sigh. Then he slowly relaxed against her back, his full weight gently bearing her to the ground before she could react or even think about turning to catch him. 

"Get to the gate…" he whispered.

She lay there for a long moment then suddenly frantic, she began to squirm madly, finally shifting his weight enough that his shoulder and head hit the ground and she could pull herself out onto her hands and knees next to him.

He was deathly still, and she had an irresistible urge to shake him, to shout at him. "Come on, John," she pleaded instead, hesitantly caressing his shoulder.

Taking a deep breath to work up her courage, she finally reached to John's neck, searching for a pulse. She almost sobbed in relief when she felt the slight flutter against her fingertips…but it was very fast and weak and seemed to be fading even as her fingers lingered.

Thinking only of her first aid training, she scrabbled at his vest zipper preparing to administer CPR if needed. Yanking the vest apart, she gasped in horror and froze. A large soggy wet spot seeped around a ragged hole in the fabric of his jacket. The sniper's bullet had gone through John's shielding body, stopped by the front of the vest itself, protecting Elizabeth, but not the man whose shoulders it hung on. "Oh my God…" she breathed and fell off her knees, recoiling from the sight of so much damage.

A flash of movement caught her eye and with a spike of fear she saw a large group of soldiers gathering where the road spilled out of the forest. As she was watching, they began to march towards her across the grass. She had perhaps a minute before they would reach firing range, another before they would be standing next to her.

But she couldn't move, couldn't tear her gaze away from John. A rage the likes of which she had never felt was burning in her chest, and constricting her throat. "Beckett!" She thought finally, "I've got to get him to Beckett." She shifted to push herself up and try to haul John towards the gate when her hand settled on something hard nestled in the soft grass.

The 9 mil had dropped from John's limp hand as he fell and sat next to her hip as if it had been carefully set there.

A painful recording of the last two days played through her mind, every thought, emotion and memory saturated with John's presence and the rage boiling within. The recording froze and replayed his angry words, "You'll let me and men like me do the dirty work for you, is that it?" He had sacrificed everything to get her home. He wanted her to go home. She looked longingly at the gate, still flickering peacefully, not far away. Then she looked at the gun.

She couldn't leave him.

Suddenly decisive, she grabbed the weapon to stuff it in her vest and none too gently shoved John onto his back. Moving to his head she hooked her fingers into the armholes of his vest and began to tug him towards the gate. But John was heavy and the ground was rough. And the gate was too far away.

The approaching soldiers shouted to one another, closing the distance. Almost choking with frustration and fear and fury, she held back sobs and channeled her anger into another desperate tug. Her fingers slipped off the vest and the force threw her down into the grass only to scramble up again and pull some more. The second time she slipped and fell, it was a long moment before she moved again. Her eyes were locked on the enemy.

With rage pounding in her ears, she drew out the 9 mil and hefted it with an ease she found surprising. Standing once more, she squared her footing protectively in front of Sheppard's prone figure and sighted along her arm the way she had seen John do at the figures approaching closer and closer.

"Stay away!" she yelled, her voice sounding shrill and broken even to her own ears. "Stay away from us. I won't let you hurt him any more. We just want to go home."

The group of soldiers, raised their own weapons and approached more cautiously, but they continued towards her. She shifted nervously and aimed the gun at first one then another. "Stay away," she repeated. Reaching so near that she found herself almost weaving as she tried to keep them all within her sights, the group paused as one. When the lead soldier, seeming to size up her resolve finally signaled to two of his men who moved suddenly forward from the edges of the group, Elizabeth startled and pulled the trigger, blinking at the sound of the discharge. She heard return fire and as anger and grief consumed her, she fired again and again, blindly into the group. She felt a whisper of air as a bullet passed so closely it flipped up a curl of her hair…

She realized she had squeezed her eyes tightly shut at the same time she realized the 9 mil was clicking futilely with each pull of her finger. She also realized it was silent except for some lingering echoes still bouncing around off the trees above the meadow. Opening her eyes slowly, the weapon still raised, she saw an empty meadow full of nothing but grass and flowers. Confused she let her arm drop heavily, the gun thudding to the ground as she let go.

Finally, convinced that the soldiers had really gone for good, she remembered John and whirled back to him. She almost yelped when she saw an old man, dressed in flowing ornate robes standing quietly beside the still figure of the fallen warrior. Suddenly furious, she dropped to her knees to lean against John protectively and shouted, "What do you want? Leave us alone!"

The old man stood staring at her with a penetrating look for so long, she squirmed and finally asked in a more normal voice, "Who are you? What do you want?"

He answered, not unkindly, "I come from Sanctuary to judge the trial. Your petition has been denied."

She was deeply confused and tired. Oh so tired. "I don't understand."

"You are an interesting people," the old man seemed genuinely intrigued and he still spoke gently, "with much passion and concern for one another. But you are not ready for the Sanctuary. You still have much to discover about true peace, and trust. Yet, you may return when you are ready. This much I offer."

Elizabeth stared dumbly at the stranger, trying to process his words. But all she could sort out was, "You did this. You put us through this!" She began to shake again with anger.

The old man's voice was even quieter still. "Some who seek are not ready to find. And some who find…are not ready to seek. Yet." He knelt down and spread his hand over John's bloody, broken form. "The gift of a life is most noble, and yet most complex. It is a gift fraught with the burden of unsettled obligation. Therefore, usually, it is a gift unwise to accept." The hand seemed to glow for a mere instant and to Elizabeth's complete disbelief and utmost joy, John took a sudden great rasping breath, moaned and rolled a bit into her knees. Her hands found his shoulder to offer comfort, then probed to feel a strong steady pulse in his neck.

Quietly stroking John's hair, unable to tear her gaze away from his peaceful quiet breaths, she at last looked into the face of the Alien from Sanctuary, so torn between fury and relief, hatred and gratitude that she could find no words to say.

"You may return. Someday." The old man repeated.

"The MALP just came online!" Lorne registered the information and even managed to reply with "See if you can drive it back through the gate…" but his whole concentration was focused on the flickering puddle.

Finally, finally a shadow emerged, black at first against the blue-white light. The figure was hunched low, walking backwards across the threshold struggling to drag a heavy load in with her. Lorne and the two guards stationed directly next to the gate leaped to help the instant they recognized the situation. With 4 pairs of hands pulling, Sheppard's feet cleared the gate and Dr. Weir gently lowered his shoulders to the gateroom floor, remaining on her knees by his head.

She looks terrible, Lorne thought, as the guards stepped away to allow the medical team in next. Lorne crouched by his COs shoulder, studying Elizabeth with a concerned eye. Her clothes, face and hands were filthy, her hair disheveled and limp with sweat. She didn't seem to recognize where she was, and kept her gaze focused on Sheppard's face.

A cry of alarm from one of the paramedics drew his attention back to Sheppard. "Holy…cow," he breathed, flinching at the sight of the massive bloodstain on the man's jacket, revealed when the medics had pulled apart his vest. The activity around him grew frantic and he was shoved aside unceremoniously as Sheppard was suddenly launched onto a gurney and wheeled away. He could hear the shouts of medical jargon echoing down the hallway long after the group disappeared from view.

"Dr. Weir?" Lorne could think of nothing else to say. He was desperate for an account and shaken to the core at the sight of his COs grievous injury.

Looking as if she had to travel a long way to reply, she finally looked at him so say softly, "Thank you Major Lorne, you still have command of Atlantis for a little while longer." She remained exactly where she was, still kneeling, staring again at the floor.

Lorne caught the eye of the medic assigned to escort her to the infirmary just as another excited shout echoed through the large chamber, "SIR! Jumper 1 is approaching Atlantis and requesting permission to land. They're asking about Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard, but they say everyone else is accounted for!" Cheers broke out.

Closing his eyes briefly and nodding in a display of reserved relief, Lorne turned back to touch Elizabeth lightly on the shoulder. "Ma'am, are you OK?"

Her reply was soft with exhaustion and an amusement he didn't understand, "I will be."

Lorne caught her in gentle arms as she closed her eyes and with a sigh, slumped into a deep sleep.


	11. Epilogue

The infirmary was bright and cheery, well as cheery as any hospital could be, she amended. Elizabeth nodded at Doctors and smiled at nurses as she walked through its winding paths. Even though she was dressed casually, off duty in comfortable day clothes, she could feel the respect everyone paid her, even more warm than usual as they expressed their gratitude at her return. _I need to get off Atlantis more_, she thought to herself. Nothing like absence to make the heart grow fonder.

Noting that John had been moved to a quiet private corner of the wing, she grinned inwardly at the realization that this was most likely not for his comfort, but for the comfort of the infirmary staff that still had to go about their business despite the burden of his irritable presence. She had visited him yesterday as he remained deeply asleep, helped she suspected by a potion or two of Beckett's. For a long time she had simply watched him breathe, chuckling with undignified pleasure when he would snort or mutter in peaceful slumber.

When Beckett had informed her that John had awakened in the night and was "eating like a horse," it had taken her until morning to collect herself before visiting him again. She was surprised by how nervous she felt. Their whole shared experience seemed almost surreal, now that she was back in the familiar trappings of home. And, she admitted, there was a part of her that didn't want to face the memories that were sure to surface by talking to him.

But. There was something she had to say, something she _had_ to tell him or the burden of the message would tear her apart from the inside. So she peeked around the privacy curtains into his room and spoke a quiet, "Hi…"

John raised his head off the pillow with a scowl, then flopped it back down again closing his eyes. "Oh. It's you." She couldn't tell if he was relieved or annoyed by the observation. Unable to smother a grin, she just pulled over a chair and set it close beside the bed to sit facing him, slouching comfortably. He was watching her as she settled in, and before she met his eyes, she rested her elbow on the edge of the bed and slipped her hand into his.

He darted his eyes warily around the space, as if checking to make sure no one was around to notice. Then he relaxed, rolled closer and gave a tiny squeeze back. "So they let you out of here already?" he asked.

"Mmmm. Yesterday."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the injustice of it. She seemed about to say something and he interrupted, "Look before you ask. I'm fine. Really. Beckett says I'm…get this…anemic and dehydrated so…" he held up the hand with the IV line taped to it then dropped it with a sigh. Elizabeth thought arriving at the infirmary unconscious in blood-soaked clothing might also have something to do with Beckett's watchfulness, despite the fact that the wounds themselves had miraculously healed underneath. "I could sleep for a week, though," he admitted quietly but unapologetically, closing his eyes as if to prove the point.

"Me too." They sat in comfortable silence for a long time, Sheppard's thumb brushing over her knuckles in idle restlessness.

"What the hell happened, Elizabeth?" John finally whispered, his voice thick with confusion and his expression almost anxious.

With a deep breath to collect her thoughts and organize all the stories and information she'd accumulated since leaving the infirmary yesterday, she began. She talked for a long time, telling him about the holograms and Rodney and Teyla's efforts to disable them, about tearing apart the jumper and finally launching a drone only to find themselves floating above Atlantis minutes later. Then she told him about Lorne's efforts and how they had been only minutes away from launching the Orion to come for them.

John listened in rapt attention, but when she seemed to be winding down, his face became even more intense. "I meant, what happened to _us_? The last thing I remember was shooting the sniper." Elizabeth cringed at the fleeting look of pain-filled memory that flashed across his face. "Not that I'm not grateful to wake up to a private room and all the infirmary food I can eat…" he went on, trying belatedly to lighten the moment.

He was watching her face expectantly and she looked away for a second. She hadn't yet told anyone about what happened after the sniper shot John. Oh, she had explained how she had talked to the Old Man from Sanctuary, how he had healed John, and that she had then dragged Sheppard through the Stargate. But she hadn't told them everything. And as she repeated the story again for John, she still couldn't bring herself to relive the rage and hatred that had driven her to shoot blindly into a crowd of men, fully intending, hoping even, to hurt, kill and destroy.

Somehow, John seemed to know she was holding back, his penetrating look revealed his concern for the unspoken half-truths. But to her relief, he let it pass and simply sighed deeply staring at the ceiling. "I still don't understand…" She understood him to mean "understand the situation," not understand her story.

Elizabeth thought for a moment, then spoke quietly, "Teyla told me last night that there's a legend among her people: A group of warriors grew so weary of fighting and resisting the Wraith, that they gave up, resolving to live from that time peacefully, even if it meant their deaths. The other Athosian warriors grew angry and accused them of being weak or lazy, and eventually drove them off their homeworld. The legend states that the group wandered for a long time following clues from many other worlds to a place that could grant them eternal peace. A place never touched by war or greed or the Wraith. The legend states that they found it and were transported far away forever."

"You think that this 'Sanctuary' the Old Man went on about was that place?" John was skeptical, not one to put much trust in legends or fairytales.

Elizabeth just shrugged. "The story fits. And the Old Man told Teyla her people were known to him. And… Rodney believes that the Ziggurat, maybe the whole planet could actually be an intergalactic transporter."

"Intergalactic…" he repeated unthinkingly.

"Yes, as in between galaxies. He thinks dropping them off in our solar system was a walk next door compared to what it's capable of. He's clamoring on about going back in the Orion…"

A long silence fell upon them again, still comfortable yet restless as each of them struggled to comprehend and digest the overwhelming experience. Elizabeth felt her message beginning to burn in her throat, and felt her heart race a bit with anxiety, bursting to be spoken.

Working up her courage, Elizabeth finally looked down at their intertwined hands. Starting hesitantly she said, "I need… to tell you… To thank you for bringing me home. For…everything you did…what you went through." She swallowed hard a few times and she realized she was gripping his hand tightly, willing him not to pull away from her. How _did_ one express gratitude to someone who had literally given his life up for you? So she went on, "and I've been thinking about what you said, that night we argued."

She raised her eyes to find him watching her with frowning concentration. "You need to know that I do not take you…or your men…for granted. I believe that I have always tried to balance risk with benefit, that lives are the most important factor. And now I know even more about what you must go through every time you step through that gate." She looked away again. "But you were right about me personally. When we were out there in the thick of it, in the real world, I was too willing to let you do the dirty work, the real work, the hard work, just because I was clinging to some juvenile ideal and… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"No, Elizabeth." John's voice was stern, but not angry and her head shot up to see him equally intent. His face was shadowed with his own guilt, and the grip on her hand was returned just as fiercely. "No, _you_ were right. Rodney came by early this morning. He told me a few things you left out. He told me they used my mind to create the holograms and design the trial. You were right about the test, you guessed it the first night! If I had listened to you, if I hadn't provoked them…" his voice broke and he paused, closing his eyes to regain his composure. "I didn't trust you. I couldn't see you as competent in the field and I was just so… scared… all I could see was getting you home. It's my fault, Elizabeth."

"You didn't have a choice," she whispered.

It was a long time before he spoke again. "I don't want to go back," his voice was distant, fearful.

"Neither do I…"


End file.
